Part III · Exposure

Shadows

January 2nd, 2025 You still have no remorse. No guilt. Justifying. Twisting. Manipulating. Par for the course— you do something, anything, and still blame me. You tell everyone I was the abuser. No— I wasn’t a saint, but I never touched you. Never manipulated you. Never told you you weren’t enough. I only spoke when you crossed the line. My boundaries— as weak as they were— still tried to protect me. Tried to give me a voice, when all you did was strip it away. “If he didn’t do what he did, if he didn’t act that way, I wouldn’t have to hit him.” And they believed it. They believed the church girl— the one who loves Jesus— couldn’t hurt a fly. But they didn’t know you behind closed doors, when only me and God were watching. Funny, isn’t it? You called me a liar. Said I was trying to ruin you. Trying to break the family. Trying to break you. But you’re the liar. You broke us. Your spirit was gone long before the cops showed up. Just like your faith— cyclical. One minute, on fire for Christ, the next, crucifying me. And still, you justify why you had to strangle me.