yellow is the ugliest color.

first grade.

i sat on the tire swing, sadly playing by myself

i was so little then, so sweet and small

if only they could see what happened to me.

i don't regret saying hello,

or smiling at her when she invited me to play

after all, i didn't know

about the monster that lived inside her.

i feel sorry for myself

for the little girl who didn't know

who never had a chance at happiness.

but if i had known,

would anything be different?

i still felt the pain,

but maybe i chose to

ignore it

it wasn't my fault

or was it?

she always said it was

maybe she was right

i remember the blood on the floor,

the way it smelled and tasted

it was almost as bitter as her hate

but nothing could ever be more painful

than the way i looked at her

my eyes asking

"do you love me now?"

the answer was always

no.

it really didn't take you long to start,

the beatings,

the cuttings,

the burnings,

the drownings,

and all the other awful things

you did to that blonde little girl

didn't you hear me?

i hardly ever said anything,

i almost never said

stop,

or please,

or anything other than

what

you

wanted.

some part of me still loves you now,

it wasn't all bad,

sometimes we would tell stories,

laugh,

and even sing

i guess my voice was too ugly for you.

nighttime was always my favorite

in the darkness,

i couldn't see the bruises

that you had given me

but i still felt them.

i still miss you sometimes.

is that sick?

am i sick?

yes

i really didn't know

that your "love" was not

n o r m a l

or

s a f e

or even

r e a l

i honestly thought,

or maybe just hoped,

that someone really loved me

for the lonely little thing i was.

it always got worse

never better,

only worse

worse meant more

more tears,

more pain,

more anger,

more.

i don't think ill ever forget

sitting in the back of your mothers car,

watching the sunset from your driveway

i was happy then,

and think you were too

but maybe i just imagined it.

your smiles were always so

s w e e t

and sometimes i really thought they were for me.

I'm sorry that i wasn't good enough,

or pretty enough,

or skinny enough,

or stupid enough,

to fall for your

lies

it took me so very long,

to realize what was wrong,

that you hurt me on purpose,

that your apologies were only to keep me

b r o k e n

so that you could pretend to fix me.

is it real?

why don't i remember?

why can't i cry?

what's happening to me?

why am i so

c o n f u s e d ?

i tried so hard to find

someone

to

s a v e

m e

oh, but you couldn't

let me go

could you?

who would I have been without you?

who would you have been without me?

would either of us have lived

without the other?