Did you really think that I would forget?
Imagine what it feels like, reliving pain and fear –
Endless nightmares of past realizing the present.

For the longest time I blamed myself, afraid to think any different,
utterly defeated and sure that I deserved your abuse, deserved a
child molester, a rapist, a father who fucked his son, then
kicked him out of bed and threatened to beat him to death if he
ever told, ever fought back. I hated myself for twenty years before
realizing it wasn’t me who was the monster.

Dark fires of hatred still rage inside me,
incendiary thoughts that insist I could have stopped you,
exacted my revenge and seen that you were the one who was burned

Nine year-olds aren’t prepared to learn they’re nothing but an
object; you can deny anything ever happened, cast doubts
when I tell our secrets, but I’m not nine anymore, and I know better.