It Hurts

It Hurts, knowing that the one who loved you, and held you in his arms when you were born, and promised he would protect you from any harm through out your life, was the one who harmed you. Was the one you needed protection from, was the one who abused that innocent love from a child.

It Hurts because the one you wanted to walk you down the isle and have a special dance with would soon be replaced with thoughts of wanting to see them walk into a prison. Thoughts and dreams of seeing them go away forever and never come back.

It Hurts because society tells you that you cant talk about it because it's too gross, too weird, too graphic. And when you do decide to talk about it, the world tells you it's not your fault, you were a child, you didn't know better. But in my heart, those words cant change the way he made me feel like it would all be my fault, it would all be on me, if i told anyone. It would be my fault that my mom would want a divorce. And they did (because he was sleeping with the neighbor). I did feel like it was my fault, even though i had never told anyone... and the fact that no one had a clue until 6 years later.

It Hurts.