What man lead to such hate?
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I am full of hatred
I wonder if he hates himself
I hear his apologies day after day
I see his hands on my mother’s neck
I want these memories to disappear
I am full of hatred
I pretend I love him
I feel his hand on my leg
I touch the dial pad, and think 9-1-1
I worry about seeing him again
I cry realizing my stepfather is a psycho
I am full of hatred
I understand everything happens for a reason
I say, “He’s gone; he won’t come back.”
I dream of his killing us.
I try to forgive him; it’s not happening.
I hope my father beats him good.
I am full of hatred.
by Michelle Cardoza
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