It didn't hurt

The abuse ended years ago, it didn't hurt then, why now?

It didn’t hurt. 

Not physically.

Not immediately.

It hurts. 

Emotionally. 

Years later. 

Does she feel the pain?

Others can see my pain.

Can she?

Do I tell her?

Will she tell me?

Will she care?

I saw her on Halloween.

The scariest person I saw.

There were zombies and ghouls,

But she was more horrifying.

She said hello,

I froze.

I could leave,

I worked in the parade,

But I didn't.

I went home,

And I cried.

I relapsed,

The scars are still there,

The blades are still sharp.

Her hands are still on me.

I'll never be free,

I will always remember her.

I will never truly forget.

I hope she doesn't either.

Author's Note

Based on my own experiences, this is more of a vent poem to be honest