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Mar 7
In 6th grade I declared that I hated hugs.
My sister would hug me and she would lean and be mean
Hug me and press all of her weight.
Hug me and let all the words escape.
And my dad,
Oh my dad.
If I didn’t give him a hug I was ungrateful
If I didn’t give him a hug I was rude
My mom,
She got the message
Wouldn’t get to close
We never talked like we were close.
I always wanted to hug my mom.
Tell her I loved her and how I was doing.
But I learned you can’t be different for different people.
And I remember the first day of high school
I said it was good and I said I already had homework so I had an excuse to leave.
I said that for four years.
I would disappear to do homework.
In that four years
I realized I miss the feeling of closeness
Cuddled in arms or conversation.
I realized I missed out on six years.
When you push and push and push people away
They get the message
When you push and push and push people away
You grow so distant you can’t see anymore
I’d grown to like the sun.
So bright it’s blinding
So bright it stings
So bright my eyes try to close ;
I can finally see
But my eyes
How they have gotten so use to me begging them shut,
That now they can’t stop trying to.
I had shut you out so much that when
I came to you crying sophomore year
You didn’t know what to
Hadn’t seen me crying since grade two
I handed you a piece of paper from the school counselor
I remember him telling me it’s only going to get worse
I remember him asking me what I’m going to do
And I got up and said sorry.
I had just come in for extra credit in science
I got up and said sorry.
I didn’t mean to waste your time.
You handed me a piece of paper and begged me to give it to my mom.
It took three weeks but i did.
It took three weeks but I did.
It took three weeks and mom, you said,
It’s red dye number two.
You said it’s in all that processed food.
You said I’ll be fine give it a week.
You said I’ll be fine watch what you speak

I stood there.
I stood there and it was like the day I got my period.
How I decided to bleed through my pants instead of telling you.
How 12 year old me decided I wanted to do my own laundry.
How you still saw my bright blue gym shorts with red stains.
How I stood in front of you exposed
How I stood in front of you with literal blood pouring from me.

It was that moment again.
But this time blood is a metaphor
But this time the blood stain couldn’t come out
But this time you didn’t give me any tools that I needed
But this time you said everything is perfect why can’t you see it.
But this time I asked for a hug.
You said you don’t like those anymore.
please give me feedback I need validation
Written by
Madison  18/F
   Elizabeth C
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