It Wasn't My Fault

I don't think I can forgive you

- not right now.

Maybe I won't ever be able to.


But I know that I can't keep on 

hating you...

because I've realized that you don't care...


So I'm done;

done hating you, done waiting for you

to tell me that it will all be okay...


Because I know that

nothing will ever be



The other day,

my therapist told me that 

what you did to me counts as trauma...


My immediate reaction was

'it can't be trauma, it was my fault. 

I deserved it...'


She said that

taking my best friend away from me

for something that


I couldn't control

- that I can't control - 

and blaming me for everything is a terrible thing.


She said that

I was a kid,

and you were an adult...


She told me

that you had no right

to treat me the way that you did...


It's taken me four years

- four, awful, painful years - 

to be able to tell myself


- to believe  -

that maybe, just maybe...

it wasn't my fault.


It wasn't




This poem is about: 


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