She never knew.
She never knew the hand that man touched me with.
She never saw.
She never saw the eyes of my father glistening with alcohol.
She never heard.
She never heard the names my brother would call me when I got home.
She never felt.
She never felt the shattering of my heart.
The thundering pain of a thousand words like bullets through my spine.
The weight of expectations just ready to crush me.
She never knew.