Brooklyn, NY
United States

Eleven ounces lighter, I stepped on the gas pedal, Eleven ounces lighter I had to push a little harder. Breathe.Leaving home was too easy. The goodbyes were only temporary. But, what made it difficult was leaving her. She was a fool, so happy and clueless. It was an odd thing for her to have her childhood stolen. She wanted nothing more than to grow. It wasn’t a slow thing. It wasn’t words that killed her it was the lack of them.  It’s hard to look at broken people. It’s even harder in the mirror. But I will always tell myself that it had to happen. Because it wasn't until I stopped looking that I stumbled upon it again. My eleven ounces, my heart, my childhood, beaten and bruised, but somehow more capable of a deeper love and understanding than ever before.

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