Cold days and
Cold feet
I just don't
Want to get up
Right now
Don't be sad
Or think that
I am
I'm not
I'm just tired
And frustrated
And I want to be alone
In the world
Doing what I love
I hope that's not
Too much to ask

Have you ever done something illegal?
I have.
I've smoked underaged,
drank underaged,
drove without a license,
drove without insurance,
sped,
*** underaged,
almost anything underaged.

I wonder what he thought of me
When I was 9 years old.
My two sisters and I running around
Excited to meet someone Mom brought home

I wonder if he knew then
What he would take from my family,
From me.
I wonder if he knew then
The wedges he would place when he tried
To make we.

I wonder how long it took him
to choose.
My older sister never liked him.
My younger sister was 4.
I guess it could have been worse.
It could've been her he had coerced.

When he coached my volleyball team
And insisted it was indecent
For underage girls to wear
spandex uniforms I thought
"how nice it is for him to care."
I wonder, was he concerned for me
Or protecting my delicious modesty?

When he followed me up to my room
After my showers
Was he waiting outside the door
Like he said,
or was he waiting
for the day he would waltz right in?

When he stayed up
Talking to me at night
We weren't good friends,
Best friends.
We were predator and prey.
He was trying to make me see
That him and me would be okay.

That my mother didn't care.
That my sisters weren't worthy.
That my friends could never understand.
He wanted me to know
that I was alone,
And he understood.
We were the same.

In the same breath
He would call me his kid
Then tell me how grown I'd gotten.
How smart, beautiful, honest.
My mother apparently forgotten.

Then there were hands.
And cameras.
Then silence.

Because when you held my hand and said I was pretty I thought I loved you,
and when you kissed my neck and spread my young legs I thought I loved you,
but when I told the nurse that I had fallen down the stairs a third time, I realized I didn't love you.
I just thought I did, like I thought I loved history class when i really preferred science.
and you, you thought you loved me but really you loved the way I withered underneath you.
because finally someone other then you, was begging for mercy.