I knew her.
Her childish face was tear-stained and swollen.
A warm embrace caused her body to collapse in my arms.

Through the sobs she wailed, My baby! My baby! I killed my baby…

She swore she’d never do it.

But family disdain was too much.
Whore. Slut. Irresponsible. Unlovable.
You’re a child who took the life of another child, they exclaimed.

I cried because she cried.

Nightmares. Suicidal thoughts. Isolation. Guilt.
I don’t deserve to live. I just want to die. God hates me.

Heartbroken at wordless, I asked for God to give something to say.
But how would you respond? What would you say?

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