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No one wants to see their Daddy with a needle in his arm.
He's supposed to be her hero.
She's supposed to be his good luck charm.
Because of her he's not supposed to want to cause himself harm.
But that's just not how addiction works.
Don't take it so hard.
pill bottle's became his baby.
because baby girl don't **** the pain like the pain killer's do.
yet he still tell's her
"Baby girl, your Daddy loves you."
so that's what love is.
in her pretty head.
so she fell in love with men that loved drugs instead.
they abused drugs
and they abused her.
tell me why hugs feel so much nicer from an abuser.
we don't want to be like our parents.
but thanks to genes and chromosomes,
were our parents to our bones.
once a tiny baby skeleton.
A bun in the oven of my mum.
a tiny being with no voice.
here only by my mothers choice.
she would walk down the baby aisle and  smile.
falling in love with everything she'd find.
She really truly wanted me.
It only took eight years to change her mind.
I no longer recognize the face in the mirror.
My little heart's full of fear.
anticipating the day you no longer want me here.
If Repeating History
is all this life is.
I'd rather be dead than relive how I've lived.
The more poetic you become,
the less they listen like before,
they hear suicide threats as metaphors
the girl who wrote poems and the boy who cried wolf are one in the same.
when will they learn this isn't a game.

— The End —