You said you'd never hurt me
and for a while,
I was okay.
I wasn't good,
I wasn't bad.
I was alive and that's all I needed.

But now,
I'm hurting.
I realize that sometimes repression
isn't always my best skill because
our memory is the cruelest skill God has given us.
I remember the pain,
the feeling of not enough oxygen,
the tightness in my chest,
the bloodshot eyes.
I remember.

I'm scared he'll do that to me too.
I'm scared to be alone,
but I'm scared to drive him away.
I drove you away.

You said you'd never hurt me.
You never said you wouldn't hurt my mind.