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Sep 2016
When I was born my father held me in his arms,
Promised to cherish me,
Give me the world,
Always protect me,
And prayed to God that I'd never meet a man like you

He prayed that his daughter would never have to flinch when someone went to touch her.
Prayed that she'd never have to mistake being property for being loved.

My father prayed that I'd never know the terrifying hunger that exists in your eyes.
Prayed that I'd never have to cry while a man claimed to be making love to me,
When all he was doing was causing pain.
Prayed that I'd know the difference.

He prayed that I'd never have to lie to myself and say "I wasn't *****."
"He didn't mean it"
"Maybe he didn't hear me crying stop"
"At least he stopped when he saw the blood"

Prayed that it wouldn't take me 5 years to even talk about it out loud. Once. With my best friend. And still act like it wasn't a big deal.
This is the only poem I have written about this incident and my first time talking about it in a long time.

**trigger warning: *******
Logan Smith
Written by
Logan Smith  RVA
(RVA)   
875
   Γ‰milie Murray, --- and NV
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