Stockholm Syndrome

TW: Murder, kidnapping, child abuse, sexual assault 

Dear,

I have a confession
and I don’t have much time
to tell you of my regrets

Dear,

I may have killed a man
with his own gun
my shirt is soaked with his blood.

Dear,

He begged for mercy
but I didn’t feel merciful tonight
is it even really that bad
to kill?

Dear,

I’d like to think he was innocent
but he wasn’t.
he killed first; he killed my father.

Dear,

He told me, as he lay dying
that he killed him to protect me
that the man wasn’t really my father
that I was brainwashed.

Dear,

I shot him again
right between the eyes
when he told me his lie.

Dear,

The man was clearly delusional
and he took away all I had
the man who raised me from birth
after my mother abandoned me.

Dear,

If you were afraid,
they already caught me
after all, I killed him in his home
a Police Station with a big brown dog by his side.

Dear,

The sirens were so loud,
just like the night daddy died
when they took me from his home at
the tender age of thirteen and thrust me into 
the arms of a woman with long brown hair who
looked a lot like me.

Dear,

They told me the woman was my mother
they’re all a bunch of liars
my mother was a whore.  Daddy said she’s 
dead by now.  Rotting in some ditch
just outside of Jersey.

Dear,

Daddy said I’d never see her again
and then he’d tuck me into his bed
every night.  And tell me how special I am
and how I’m his “beautiful” girl.

Dear,

Daddy loved me.

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