“I love you,” you said to me that night,
You love me, I told myself when I woke in the morning.
You seem certain about this.
It seems there isn’t much you know though.
You don’t know that I scrubbed my skin until it turned red and broke
I felt unpure.
Don’t know I couldn’t sleep, I still can’t.
One eye open because I am scared.
Things you do know terrify me.
You know where I stay, where I sleep.
You know I have a beauty mark under my left
Before everything happened with him, I never truly understood how victims minds worked. It’s a weird thing really. My friend told me about how she had been sexually assaulted at a young age. I always wondered why she didn’t just tell her dad. Or, when I watched tv why a victim would just let their abuser get away with what they did. Of course I sympathized with them, but I could never truly understand.
Sometimes I wish I couldn’t truly understand. A lot of times really. I wish I didn’t kno