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I feel awful, like a piece of trash, thrown in the street fed up of at last.
I did nothing wrong, I was just stood there, helping a little girl get on her outerwear.
You shouted and screamed, you pushed them out the door.
Your voice rang in my head, you can fuck off too.
As your hands grabbed me tight and pushed me out with them.
I stood shaking in disbelief what had I done?
We walked and walked, and I wanted to come home, but I was afraid it wasn't my home.
They called you and you had not even noticed. You shouted my name I heard it!
Over the phone you said I wasn't there, to be told no you threw her out there!
You said I could go home, of course, I was happy, but at the same time I wonder was that my home?
Home should be happy, a home should be safe, that home is anything but it is a disgrace.
Getting home, you cuddled me tight, you apologised for your outburst and cried outright.
I cried with you, not because you were but because I love you and wish you noticed.
You said you thought I was someone else, were you that angry? You didn't even recognize your own daughter?
Your apology helped, but it never healed me, I will still remember today for as long as I live.