Pen in Motion

I don’t really hate you, 

just kinda. 

Not really because 

I don’t want bad things 

to happen. 

I just want you to be sorry – 

to apologize for when you lied about me 

and made me think 

you were my best friend 

while you ruined me for four years. 

Or you – when you didn’t stop. 

No means no, 

but you had to get yours first. 

Or you when you made me give in 

so I wouldn’t be forced.

Or you – when you left us and played daddy 

to all those other kids. 

I waited for you to do that for me 

until you left for good 

and I just had to let it go. 

How about you – 

for making me think I was nothing 

so you could be something. 

It’s not fair 

that the good man still deals 

with your mess. 

I’ve been told that I need to forgive. 

I thought I did, 

but then I’m triggered. 

I’m yelling at the TV 

because I know what it’s like 

to be beaten with words 

until I’m just a wounded animal 

who wants to make you bleed like you made me. 

Soul wounds – that’s what they’re called. 

I’m a bruised mess down there. 

And it’s your fault. 

I want to let go, 

but can’t one of you just be sorry?