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You’re a criminal.
I caught you breaking unwritten laws.
You sold me half of my genetics
and discounted the other half to my loss.
I’m curious to know
what gives you the right
to deceive me.
Am I in any less pain
than what I would have been
without your dishonesty?
And how does it feel
to be a master of disguise..
Did you hide the truth
quick enough to convince yourself of your lies?

I knew the facts were fabricated
but I wasn’t brave enough to believe the truth.
Accusations were too complicated
without paternal proof.

No pain is waterproof.

I sink in sorrow
with bricks to borrow
And build a wall for eyes to see-through.

I carry a burden between my ribs
in the same corner where the truth sits.
I gargle a lump in my throat
as I choke on words and remain

silent.

I deserve two apologies:
One for your crime.
And another for your attempt to protect me.

Britta B.

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