Just some poetry as as a claim to abuse, and a tribute to the abused ones.

I have heard that you have died, and I believe that I have killed you, I have killed you when I stopped fearing you.

I've heard you cried, and I think your crying looked like mine, but what hurts you was conscience, and what hurts me was the dignity between my legs.

I've heard you bleed, and I think I gave you the blood, just a little bit of my belly and your hands stained with mine

I have heard that you have prayed, and I think I have taught to you, you prayed as I begged you, you implored as I implored you.

I've heard you've asked for forgiveness, and I think I asked for it too, but you asked God, and I, to my girl body infront of a mirror...and your prints in virgin skin.

And I'll look at your dead eyes that look alive, but this time ... I'll be the one above.

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English is not my first language. The poem was written originally in spanish and has a better rhythm on it. But I did my best.