Irony and poetry
Are they really one and the same?
I live where it began
I sleep two feet from where it happened
Shouldn't I feel something
Anything?
Really surprises me that I don't
Stuck in here but not afraid
Have I faced my demons?
Or is it just buried too deep?
This family is full of lies and denial
So maybe I follow in their wake
Am I that pathetic though
Or is it just my mental wall
After all I did say I locked all my memories away in a tiny mental box
I guess that's why I don't remember much
I suppress it
But if that's true how come I can't forget when I was laying in his bed
Under the covers
Why can't I forget him taking of my pants
Then my panties
I said what are you doing
He said it was okay
My five year old self trusted him
But my fifteen year old mind is screaming
Why didn't you stop him
Why didn't they believe you when you said what happened
Why do you hate yourself and not him
