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.