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I'll never heal from this scarring event in my life.
Nobody goes through life unscarred.
To have gone through life without being scarred it to have never lived.
You learn more about people and life by all the trials and tribulations that happen in and around you.
As long as their blind loyalty went to him, they'll never see the same violator I did.
I'll always be stuck in the past, regardless of how I try to be in the present.
I have so much healing to do while he leads his life like I were a mean speed bump.
I'm always distracted by that ugly even.
Xmas eve I felt so triggered but I kept it all to myself.
I wanted to punch someone, to strangle the life out of them.
I told myself it was the trauma getting to me, creeping up on me.
It's like he's still on me and all over me.
I can't have a sexual thought without his interference.
He was never a friend for what he did.
It's been fifteen years and it feels like it just happened.
Time can't erode it quickly enough.
The powerlessness of it has me in its grip.
I'm not a poet so this isn't a poem.
It's just the way it's displayed, that's all.
I hate poetry.
What's keeping me alive?
My hope is that he'll be on the news and I can say, "I knew it!"
My hope is that I'll get an apology from those people who didn't believe me.
Money won't make me happy; I'm not an expense to solve with cash or a cheque.
Everyday I carry this secret, acting like I'm unscathed.
I wonder how many others out there can tell, just by looking at me, hearing my voice, my mannerisms, my choice of words?
Am I obvious or a total mystery?
It's the same recording in my head, on a loop.
I may never get over it, but I'll live through it.
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