Dear Mom

I heard you in the back of his truck, giggling.

I knew what was going on. I always knew.

I knew when I would crawl into bed with you because I had another nightmare.

You two were naked.

Disgusting.

I knew because I wanted to watch Spongebob, but found a girl on a screen taking dick.

Four years old.

You stayed with him for what? The drugs probably. Or maybe it was the great sex. Maybe it was both. It doesn't matter why. He hit me while he was hitting you. 

"You shouldn't have got in his way."

I knew when his son slipped his hands into my pants at age five.

I still remember that day. It gives me nightmares.

And what happened to my molester?

Two months parole.

And you sat there crying. I should've been crying.

But I stayed strong because you needed me.

And I needed a childhood.

But I will never get it back.