Then I learned to fight back.
Words for words.
Blows for whispers.

I turned my shame into rage,
sharpened it, made it cut.

And for a while, it worked.
Until I realized—
violence doesn’t erase echoes.
It just makes them louder.
Then I learned to fight back. Words for words. Blows for whispers. I turned my shame into rage, sharpened it, made it cut. And for a while, it worked. Until I realized— violence doesn’t erase echoes. It just makes them louder.
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