It is said that truth hurts but no blood is shed.
But to me, every word was a knife to my heart and every reflectionwas a dagger to my soul.
Was I masochist? Or did I witness his sadism day-in day-out?
All I knew was I was reliving the revived pain.
She couldn’t help it but these thoughts were swirling in her head.
She didn’t know whether she was just torturing herself or whether there was a truth hidden behind it all.
Lord have mercy….
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