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Baby Girl Monologue

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I want to find the one. The one that cups the sides of my face and pulls me into him under the dim streetlamp. I want drizzling rain on our shoulders as he presses his lips onto mine. I want to lie on that red and white checkered blanket under the darkness of the night and the brightness of the stars and of the moon and of our baby boy. I want to glance at my husband with tears in my eyes and tell him we made it. I want to go back four years and find my former self. I want to tell her the blood running down her skin won’t help the tears running down her face. And the scars she makes on herself won’t mend the scars her dad and stepmom place in her heart I want her to run to the bathroom, but instead of grabbing the bottle of pills

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