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Grappling with the Truth

You hurt me.
It happened, didn't it? It wasn't an illusion, wasn't a dream.
It was you, your hands, your body, your mind
Your mind raped me.
Your body was the tool used, but your mind did the damage
Carefully planning how to get the maximum benefit for the least effort
My pain and terror from you using your little pinky. If that's the word. Words change, but size matters when you're 5.
I punished myself because you were golden
So everything was my fault.. being touched, being raped, being alive to serve as a reminder of your weakness. All on me.
When will this end?

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