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I met you when I turned ten years old. That’s kinda crazy. A stranger before then, Never felt your touch, your love, your warmth, Or even knew your name. I remember asking— Was the nice lady with curly brown hair, The one who smiled and waved at me in the grocery store, Was she my mother? Why wasn’t my mother here? Those questions pierced my ears. No amount of tears spilled on the floor, Restless nights spent wide awake, Tired lungs from screaming— None of it was enough To bring you back. You kept that door locked.