Dear whoever you are,
I loved you for years and now I'm scared to look at you.
I'm scared that you might hurt me again.
I'm scared that you might take another swig of *** and try to force me out of my own clothes again.

That night I was cold and I needed your warmth.
I knew, in the back of my mind, that I would never get it.

Dear you,
You forced yourself on me because you needed ****** satisfaction.
I wasn't there to just mess around.
I was there to love you.
And care for you.

You were too drunk to stand up but you weren't to drunk to tell me "no one will help you. Everyone is on my side."
Luckily, I knew the signs of an abuser before you.
Luckily, I got out before you killed me.

Dear you,
I hope you're doing well.
I hope you've found someone that satisfies you.
I hope you've found someone that you don't have to ****.

Dear you,

Blurry,
Numb,
Painful.

Those are the words that I use to describe the night I was in a car accident.
A young mother on her way home from the bar crossed the center median and hit my best friend.
She lived but suffered mentally afterwards.
The accident ruined the friendship and I was called an ADDICT.

I was forgotten.
My bills were paid and I failed in school but I was forgotten.
No one returned my calls.
No one asked how I was.
I was told that I needed to get out to get better but no one understood the physical pain I was in.

A bruised and fragile body. Still able to move but in very small increments.
Recurring nightmares and flashbacks nearly every hour but still smiling.

I was told to **** it up and get outside to hang out. I wanted to **** myself. If I was so much of an addict or a baby, I should have just swallowed the pills right there.

Fresh from my 18th birthday. I wanted the accident to happen all over again.