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Monica
Monica

Monica

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Monica
Monica
Dec 9 · 1 min read

I live in a world of slamming doors. Sarcasm became my breakfast, lunch and dinner. I cradle my head in my hands. The noise inside driving me insane. Sleep. Sleep. Sleep is all I want so I can have the blessing of silence. His steps are loud. His voice is loud. His tone harsh. His demands beneath his age. His well too deep. His presence disturbs my…