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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1429764
Cycles of abuse must be broken, if not, refined & disguised until hardly detectable.
Fleeing in fear from screaming and
yelling with terror on your face. Quickly, under
the bed! How did I get to this place?

Mommy loves you. Black and blue crayons. A sad heart
and confused mind attaches razors to words that
otherwise are kind. She loves you not. Scarlet red kiss
upon the cheeks. Why can't you be a good little girl and
do as I tell you to!

Come from under there, its ok. Sit with me while
tears I wipe from your face. Tissue is tender, but falls
apart easily. Don't let them hurt me! I promise,
the monster is gone. How did I get you to this place?

Eyes of stone, dulled by times tic toc, tic toc. I look
through your pain. I don't know how to comfort
you or your peace help you to regain. The monster
is resting, hiding in the music box.

In my frustration, I only wished to do you
harm; "No matter where you go there will
be people who hate you! Get from under that
bed! So there's no cause for your alarm."

Smile, don't cry in the cookies. Your concern is not needed
and she's just fine. Mommy will kiss it to make it all better.
How do I get out of this place? Not quite what I had in mind.
We should be going now.
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