the ink of my heart | poetry

76

oh, how i wish i knew
your story
when i was still living
in my hell.
oh how i wish
we could have helped
each other.
i'm so terribly sorry
you had it worse
than her and i.
to this day,
i still don't quite
understand why
no one believed you
when you spoke up.
i bet it made you
regret saying a word,
didn't it?
i bet you vowed to yourself
to never speak on that
wound again-
only to act as if
you has the best
family ever,
despite what was happening
behind closed doors.
you wanted to keep
quiet so he didn't
dispose of what you
called your family.
this is exactly how i felt-
and everything i did.
when word resurfaced
that he was doing it to
her and i,
i know it broke you in two.
because you couldn't prevent
it from happening.
it's so hard to believe-
even to this day-
that it was not your
fault.
there is nothing you
could have done
to prevent it.
like when she told me
it was happening to her-
i felt so worthless.
after obeying him
for all these long
and agonizing years
and keeping my mouth shut,
he made her his third victim.
i'm sure there are more
than just us three girls.
honestly, i am so
thankful
i don't have to deal with it
any longer;
you don't have to deal with it
any longer;
she doesn't have to deal with it
any longer.
i wish he didn't have bond.
i wish my mother-
of all people-
wouldn't have bailed him out.
imagine if he were to rot
in that dirty cell-
or even be killed by
his fellow inmates
in there.
and to this day,
i am still so
very confused as to
what my mother
sees in your brother
after he's hurt you
and her two daughters.
it's probably happened
to our brother as well
yet it remains
unknown.
i still don't have
the full truth
and neither do you
but it will
unveil
one day.