Victimized yet again.

You'd think you'd get used to it by now.

You think

"Hey, it's happened before;

what's different about now?"

But every incident has its impact.

Every touch;

every rub.

They all matter.

You wonder why your parents allow it.

They must know.

The predator jokes about it

and does it right under your parents' nose.

Your parents let it happen

and that alone fucks with your head.

You have to go to their house again.

Thanks Mom.

You know what's in store

and what your fate is.

You should be numb to it by now,

but you're not.

You're scared.

And you're alone.

You can't tell.

Your parents would ostracize you

and you would still be all alone.

Nobody would love you again.

You couldn't possibly testify.

Telling would be too hard.

Besides, 

what if you simply imagined it?

What if none of it actually counted as abuse?

You can't do it.

You must suffer.

Alone.