Agony my groans are unutterable the pain is too deep the cries have no sound and yet I weep the soul is bound with love nowhere found not one person to connect with “I am bound” not one person to understand that my suffering is my own conceived by a wicked plan if you say you love me why can’t I feel it why is your touch non-existent am I alone in this great big world will there be healing for this little girl How are you supposed to feel about yourself when  accused of trying to kill your little brother at the age of three or four.  You know the truth although you are only three years old.  You know that your mother is lying to cover her own ass.  She knows damn well she left a three-year old and a two-year old in the apartment by themselves.  This is my very first memory of childhood. Again, please let

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