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May 10, 2017

    Poetry

    Bruised

    I watch my bruises turn black and blue From when you practised your punches on me You went on your usual drunken spree, Returning home with a look that I knew Your bloodshot eyes were my very first clue Yet, frozen with fear made it hard to flee I watch my bruises turn black and blue From when you practised your punches on me The shame gives way to courage anew No longer a victim I want to be; I…

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