From reality the truth will burn and fester inside of you until you have no hope. Touched beaten, bruised. When you get your soul harshly taken from you, you say no words. Sit there and let him do what he may, your so called father beat on you, leave marks, scars. Sit there while the tears roll down your face, burning. I thought he was supposed to love me. There is not an ounce of life in sight. I want so much to heal but every time I get there I get slashed, again. Pick up the pieces but the puzzle will never be solved, the last piece sits right in front of me. The piece that touches, beats, and bruises with no end. So in truth, I will never heal. Ma never even takes a second look, how can she from 6 feet under? Can you hear the thunder from her sickening murder? Because I can feel the lightening strike me like his hand upon my soft skin. I thought he was supposed to love me? I’m sorry that truth of reality has brought me no hope. And I thought he was supposed to love me?