It Died
By donnamarie
It died with every one of my mother's screams. It died when I realized I was just a stupid cunt. It died with every crash of furniture against the wall. It died with my brother's silent resolve. It died every time my sister ran away. It died every time my mother moved us. It died every time I comforted my mother to sleep. It died whenever I saw her sleeping on the couch. It died every time I was not good enough. It died with every game that he was absent from. It died when all he wanted was the credit. It died when he denied his paternity. It died when I ran away. It died as I looked longingly at knives. It died long before I ever knew death existed. Truth is, he's been dead for years.daddy Written March 14th, 2002 © on Mar 14 2002 08:02 AM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"It died..."