Deep inside at the bitter core exists a deformed creature,
stunted in youth,
who retreated and disfigured
and refused to grow,
the summer of my ninth year.
Hyding among shadows of fear
like a wild animal,
not truly human,
or perhaps more human than I am now,
She sleeps.
Then escapes and retreats before she’s caught,
lashing out to destroy anyone in sight,
when backed into a corner,
or trapped by too much light.
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