You came in and took what ever it was you felt was yours. But it wasn’t yours to take.
You came in and destroyed what ever was mine, even things I didn’t know were mine yet, my innocence, my childhood, my heart and soul. Those things were not yours to destroy.
You came in and took my trust, my light, my life. Again; that wasn’t yours to take.
You came in. You had no right. You didn’t have to do what you did, but you did and that was your choice. Not mine.
I’ve grown up, and you still keep taking things from me, my memories are filled with hurt, with darkness, with you. That doesn’t seem fair.
You come in still and take up the empty corners of my mind, spaces that are meant for other things, for passions, for love, for lust and devotion to life.
You come in still and take my dreams, my spare thoughts. Those things are for me, not you.
You come in and shatter me, with the mere thought of you.
Decades later, and you will continue to do so.
I can’t change that. I can’t change what you did. And what has been done can never be forgotten; at least not by me. Others might forget momentarily, but I won’t.
You are a disease with no cure, you are in my space, infecting me. Yet for others; you are almost invisible because they don’t fully understand and only you can really know what you did to me and only I know how it bleeds in to everything I am. No one else can know.
I will never be cured. I am terminally changed because of you. I will die knowing what you did. I will die with that inside me.
You will die a free man even after everyone ‘kinda’ knows and tries to understand what you did to me.
And as bleak as this all sounds I feel a teeny bit blessed, blessed because all these things will only fuel me.
Fuel me to change how I feel about what you did.
Fuel me to empower others so that they know that they could never change what happened, but that they do own the power get through to a better place, even if in that place it still never really leaves us.
Everyday I come in, and I take back what you took.
Piece by piece.
Year after year.
Decade after decade.
I am taking it back. And I will up until I die.
I am taking back the power and I will make you small, even when I feel weak.
I will rape your memory with my voice, loud and clear, the exact way you raped mine.
I am no longer small and you can no longer take.
Now I come in, and I take because it is mine to take. Not yours.