The past haunts me like a ticking bomb
And it ticks and ticks
Waiting to explode
It hones it’s power fully
Trying to let go.
Sometimes I question If the past is the reason I’m so strong
But the little girl didn’t need to be strong
She needed to be loved, cherished and adored
Instead she got abused to limits she could not afford.
Why does my pain need a limit?
Why do I have to move on from it fast?
Why do you get to process all of your trauma?
And then tell me I should leave mine in the past.
I guess It’s easy to say when you’re not the pray but the perpetrator
I can’t sleep at night from the things you did
I can’t function properly because of your actions
My heart is colder than ever before
Because you came and left it in fractions.
I held on to the broken pieces and glued them all together
But not even the strongest glue can hold
A heart shattered forever.
Chances, chances
How many more?
Dish out many,
Get asked for many more.
How can you live with yourself?
Knowing what you’ve done.
And even more important,
How can you ask me to forget?
Do you even regret, or do you want to move on?
You don’t understand the severity of your actions
But you will at one time
I hope it isn’t too late by then
And I haven’t reached my prime.
submitted by /u/idiot_-_
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