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The Plague

All my life, you have been my sickness. My plague.

I can’t be rid of you, and I feel you will be the death of me.

I am states away and somehow I still feel your control over me. I feel the eggshells under my feet and the rapid heart beat that keeps me on edge.

I close my eyes and see yours, angry. Sputtering over your latest annoyance. Spit hit my face as I watch your lips moving, quickly, shouting about a dirty plate. You don’t care.

You degrade me. I’m stupid, you say, lazy.

Banished to the bathroom, I pretend I’m living on a beach. Far, far away. I pretend I haven’t been sleeping next to the toilet, locked in this small room; but on the sand with the waves caressing my feet.

I’m still a child cursed by you, even as an adult far from you.


Just a simple human trying to pass the ultimate test.

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