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I was 4 years old


*I haven’t slept in 3 days because I am afraid to sleep and to relive this in my nightmares. I want to get this out of me. 

I was 4 years old. You told me, “Look at your stomach. Look at the marks your shorts are making. Take them off.”


I took them off. Then I stare at the your ties hanging in the closet. I memorize each pattern and how you organized them by color. I can still see them, organized from black to yellow. Paisley and striped.

Now I hate my body. I starve myself so I never have anything but skin and bones and nothing can leave a mark. I starve myself so I can’t feel anything.

But I still feel you.

You’re a fucking virus. You infected me. You are feed off of my life. I cried when your wife died. I cried when your children spoke at her funeral. I cried because losing your mother is terrible, but being left alone with you is worse.


I ended up in the psych ward after you “stopped by” because you saw my out-of-state plates. I feel like I’m about to end up there again.

Stay out of my dreams and go to hell. 

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