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  • Writer's pictureRabby


Momma, I killed a girl today.

I didn’t expect her to die when I

aimed at her heart and pulled the trigger.

But she didn’t survive

Momma, I killed a girl today. She was no ordinary girl

She was beautiful and strong… but confused.

She thought she had everything figured out when the sun was out

But at night, she was a terrified miserable little shadow.

She hid at night, fighting the shadows of her past and

Run away from the fear of light.

She spent most of her time in regret and lived countless hours counting rejections

So I took her life…

Momma, I killed her, and I’m not sure I’m sorry about it.

She acted strong and was relentless

but she was an image of self-pity behind close doors.

A pale poor peasant that pleaded with bitterness to leave her be.

She was whoever she wanted to be in the open…

But she didn’t even know she was.

Yet, she wore her masks and wore them well.

Momma, I killed a girl, but I’m no murderer.

She was in desperate need of redemption.

So I gave it to her. I took her life… and gave it away

And she’s in a better place now.

She thanked me when I put an end to her misery.

She said I had given new life.

Momma, I killed a girl.

I realized that she needed to die if

she wanted to live so I gave her a gift

Now, she’s in a place.

She knows who she is,

She knows what she wants and

she knows where she’s going.

She can live now, and live her life abundantly.

Momma. I killed a girl today.

She was me.

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