Thoughts From A Victim

As fucked up as it is,

I miss you,

If I could take back the bottle,

The drugs,

The unwanted touch,

I would.

And not to save you,

To save myself from endless self-destruction.

If I could rewind,

And forget it all,

Maybe I'd be a little less broken,

Maybe we could pick up the pieces together,

And go back to the way it used to be.

Does that make me crazy?

Does that make me weak?

Or just hopefully holding onto a memory,

Hopefully holding onto broken glass,

We can't be glued back together.

But I still love you,

I still love your mother,

I still love your father,

I still love your brother.

I just hate what you did,

I hate what lengths you went to,

Just to have your way with me for one night.

Can I ask?

Was it worth it?