The Power Of Ink

my past

How does it feel bringing up my past infront of me every other day?
Does it make you happy to see me cry?
Oh sorry, you don't know.
That I suffer everyday, bearing the pain of my past.
I'd rather you tell me what happened everyday than show it to me
I may say I don't hate you
But a part of me, the small, scared, little girl? She hates you.
More than you can imagine
For abandoning her
For not listening to her
For blackmailing her
And after all these years, you say what?
You're sorry? Sorry for being so shitty? That it was wrong of you to do that?
If you really were truly sorry
You wouldn't bring my past infront of me
The one you witnessed right infront of your eyes and didn't bother helping me out of.
As much as you saying sorry made me feel relieved
It feels like you didn't mean it, actually no
You didn't mean it
If you did, you would repent
You would get your ways right
You wouldn't still be doing this shit.
Again and again and again
It's not easy for me to live with what happened
It's a surprise I'm even here
And you have decided that you will make me regret that decision by bringing up my past not through words but the person who caused it all