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She is hit.

Yelled at.
Screamed at.

Touched but not innocently.
Kissed but not gently.
Held but not friendly.
Raped so unfairly.

And every night she will cry,
Wishing she would just drop and die.

And in silence,
Haunting memories will come back to her.

And she fears that she will never be able to forget
The pain.
The hurt.
The struggle
And abuse

And when people ask her
About the bruises on her arms
She will make up some hopeless excuse
To hide the fact that she's been abused.

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