Victimized yet again.
You'd think you'd get used to it by now.
"Hey, it's happened before;
what's different about now?"
But every incident has its impact.
They all matter.
You wonder why your parents allow it.
They must know.
The predator jokes about it
and does it right under your parents' nose.
Your parents let it happen
and that alone fucks with your head.
You have to go to their house again.
You know what's in store
and what your fate is.
You should be numb to it by now,
but you're not.
And you're alone.
You can't tell.
Your parents would ostracize you
and you would still be all alone.
Nobody would love you again.
You couldn't possibly testify.
Telling would be too hard.
what if you simply imagined it?
What if none of it actually counted as abuse?
You can't do it.
You must suffer.