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He cannot believe that I have my own opinion my own lense my own life He is a pushing, smothering ideal He is wanting to steal the only thing I have But I am not 16 anymore I am a week from 19 I am strong, I am loved I've seen my faults, I have forgiven my faults. But I will never be able to forget what he's done. Never. All this time, he thought there was a chance. That my kindness stretched over fire and hell. But I'm not stupid, I'm not ignorant to hurt. I know how that would feel.
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Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
A week from 19
He cannot believe that I have my own opinion my own lense my own life He is a pushing, smothering ideal He is wanting to steal the only thing I have But I am not 16 anymore I am a week from 19 I am strong, I am loved I've seen my faults, I have forgiven my faults. But I will never be able to forget what he's done. Never. All this time, he thought there was a chance. That my kindness stretched over fire and hell. But I'm not stupid, I'm not ignorant to hurt. I know how that would feel.
vivian-poems
Written by
24/F/Canadian
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 2:53 AM UTC
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