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The extremes I went to be better than the abusers that had been in his life.

His psyche had become such that he could not notice good, could only accept the bad. Could not seem to exist without the old abuse in his life. He was addicted to it, was addicted to someone controlling him, trying to keep him in their grasp. But he could only think of revenge. “When I get around to getting her back for what she has done!”

Could not move on.
Could not stand up.
She had pushed him back far too many times,
had left him naked and exposed
And far too shy.

Was she going to subject her boys to the same brand of torture?
Of course she was.
It was all she knew.

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