I haven’t say your name in years, i’ve never been able to swallow the words that make up your name, a name that i ‘ve been trying to forget since i was six years old. I don’t know why i chose you, from all my loved ones i could’ve choose. But it is not because i miss you, or i care about you, is about me, i thought this was good for my wild mind.
I know that technically i should hate you, but i don’t. I know that my mom should hate you, but she doesn’t, i know my siblings should hate you, but they don’t, even when they told me that since the day you did that to me you stopped being a father to them, but i know deep inside they don’t feel that way completely, you still their father, and remembered as a great man for those who don’t know what you did.
Even my psychologist thought i felt angry at you, but the truth is that i don’t feel anything, i can’t even hate you, i can only blame you for all the nights i stayed up thinking and re thinking the days when you promised me coca cola and crayons, but i never received them, instead you took everything a 5 year old can have.
I never asked my mother how were you like, i just know you ended up in prison and moreover died, did you feel remorse? did you even thought of doing this to one of your own daughters, my sisters? did you think a 5 year old would never break her silence? Im sorry but i can’t keep quiet.
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