I’m sorry
She often forgets about her,
That timid-eyed girl
In the corner of her mind.
She chooses to ignore
Her braces-lined smile,
Wire-framed glasses, and
Flushed cheeks.
It is easier to pretend that she does not exist.
It is easier to pretend that every self-destructive
Word,
Thought,
And act
Are not also directed
At her
At her fraying pigtails,
Quiet demeanor,
And displaced apologetic gaze.
She thought she could never harm a child.
She was wrong.
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