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Little Girl
I was raised by a little girl.
She was hurt,
She had bruises and cuts on her body.
We took beatings together,
She’s the only one who held me as I cried.
I was raised by a little girl,
She knew my father as a soldier.
She knew him better than I did,
Rather,
Who he used to be.
He stopped hurting us as we grew,
But she was already grown.
I was raised by a little girl,
She was the coolest person I knew.
She introduced me to good music,
She let me draw anime girls all over her textbooks.
She cooked horrible food in the microwave,
She cried a lot at night.
I was raised by a little girl,
I hated her for growing up.
I remember her graduation,
She was smiling so wide.
On the ride home my parents screamed,
She was gone.
I was raised by a little girl,
I hardly see her anymore.
I asked her once,
‘Do you miss them?’
She looked at me,
She looked so much like my mother.
Rather,
Our mother.
I was raised by my sister,
Only 7 years old when I was born.
She’d sit alone in the quiet of our living room,
The house was empty.
She was putting sharpies on her eyelids,
And posters on her walls.
I was raised by a little girl.
I wonder who raised her?
She was hurt,
She had bruises and cuts on her body.
We took beatings together,
She’s the only one who held me as I cried.
I was raised by a little girl,
She knew my father as a soldier.
She knew him better than I did,
Rather,
Who he used to be.
He stopped hurting us as we grew,
But she was already grown.
I was raised by a little girl,
She was the coolest person I knew.
She introduced me to good music,
She let me draw anime girls all over her textbooks.
She cooked horrible food in the microwave,
She cried a lot at night.
I was raised by a little girl,
I hated her for growing up.
I remember her graduation,
She was smiling so wide.
On the ride home my parents screamed,
She was gone.
I was raised by a little girl,
I hardly see her anymore.
I asked her once,
‘Do you miss them?’
She looked at me,
She looked so much like my mother.
Rather,
Our mother.
I was raised by my sister,
Only 7 years old when I was born.
She’d sit alone in the quiet of our living room,
The house was empty.
She was putting sharpies on her eyelids,
And posters on her walls.
I was raised by a little girl.
I wonder who raised her?
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