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Writer's pictureLiliana Ulloa

Dissues.

No longer do I remember the exact color of your beautiful eyes,

For my memory has been plagued by your sins.

The only thing I seem to recall, is the anger behind them

As your fist made contact with my skin.

I can’t remember the last time we shared a moment of laughter,

A moment of genuine affection.

What I do recall is the smell of liquor in your breath

As you would spit on my face ignoring my every objection.

I can’t help but wonder why you did the things you did,

What was the point of the abuse?

I tend to give you the benefit of the doubt,

Maybe you thought beating me to a pulp was for my own good.

What good comes from controlling, spying on, and abusing someone you’re supposed to unconditionally love?

I wish God gave me the answer as to why,

After years of experiencing abuse, I still don’t fucking know.

Because of you, anxiety and depression have made themselves a home inside my mind.

And even though it’s been years that you’ve been gone,

They still stick around and haunt me every night.

I try to shoo away the difficult memories,

of all the times you used your hands to caress parts of my body you didn’t have the consent to touch.

For those are the memories I wish I could erase,

Those are the ones that keep alive my grudge.

It’s embarrassing to speak up about it,

even after you kept my mouth shut with your fists.

All I could do to cope with the abuse, was dig a razor in my wrist.

And even though the scars remain, and mental illness has made me its bitch.

I can’t deny I miss you sometimes,

and wonder if our relationship is something we could stitch.

I hate the  fact that I will always love you,

even after all your big mistakes.

Even after all the times you made me think killing myself was the only  way

i could escape.

Maybe we can watch baseball together, eat mariscos,

Make up for all the wasted time apart.

We can even pretend this never happened,

you can be the dad you should’ve been right from the start.

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