Hannabal

Happy?

You were the one to take me out for ice cream,

to let me stay up late even when my parents said no.

You let me watch horror movies and eat what I wanted.

You were the one to pick me up when I was down,

and you made me feel like I had a friend.

But I was dead wrong.

You did those things; but only to appear the good guy.

You held me when I cried;

but that was to get close.

You watched me for my parents;

but that was so we were alone.

You played with me;

but that was just an excuse.

You said ‘Sorry’,

‘it won’t happen again’,

‘it’s just a one time thing’,

‘I need this’.

But those were lies.

When you’re supposed to love me,

you hurt me instead.

You hit me.

Kick me.

Slap me.

Throw me down.

Call me names.

Bitch, slut, cunt, dirty, whore, stupid;

not even good enough to love.

Then you touch me.

Everywhere; dirtiness.

Tears are coming.

And I’m fighting.

But you’re stronger.

You grab me; and you do things.

Bad things.

You cover my mouth so that I won’t scream.

Then it’s over and you leave.

I’m left alone to wonder if I deserve this;

to wonder why the people who are supposed to love you,

go out of their way to hurt you the most.

So I stop crying,

Thinking; feeling.

It’s easier.

You can’t be betrayed.

No more pain;

no more sadness.

I’m empty, and I’m done.

Everything I used to be is gone.

You killed it, and now you’ve killed me.

Happy yet?