It's St. Patty's day
He's drinking again,
Alden is
I hate him
he told me to make myself scarce
but he didn't use those words
I saw his face
he wanted to beat me
I hate him
dear lord, I hate him
I wish my friend were here;
she'd know what to do
I don't know what to do
the ache on my back seems to be spreading
I stopped crying a while ago:
I have other aches, other pains that are less superficial
no one can see
my progenitor hates me
because I look like her
I have her eyes, her icy eyes
I have her freckles and her mouth that used to smile
she used to smile before she left him
before she left us
but I know she never meant to
never meant to leave
it was all my fault, Alden says
my fault that she went away
I can't blame him for saying that
not when I believe it too
It was all my fault
but that doesn't justify the pain, the blunt brutality
of Alden's hatred
that doesn't pardon his drinking
doesn't excuse his screwed-up reasoning
or the verbal assaults
or the physical blows
just because I'm a
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