Was it the first time
the rod hit me?
that jolt of pain
wrapping around me
soft skin burning
black and blue
with marks that said
I hate you

Was it your hand?
the sudden pain
red blooming fast
like red hot flames
the sting and shame
the searing trace
the marks you left
across my face

Was it the screams?
that shattered me
that stole my breath
and mind from me
each wave that crashed
each quiet plea
unraveled all
my sanity

Somehow through that
I stayed alive
kept on breathing
learned to survive
but deep inside
behind my eyes
I tend to think
I also died

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