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Knowledge
I debated this. Whatev.
It finally became clear
All those questions and misplaced blame
It was never him, it was always her
A poor, beaten girl who took it out on a poor, beaten baby
And all of those dreams, more nightmares
thoughts
actions
It could never be taken back
but I know now
and when I feel the loving touch of a man or woman
will I tell?
Or is it my secret to keep, that no one shall know?
What do I do with this knowledge?
I'll bury it, and continue to do so
until I am miles ahead of it, letting the sunlight
stare me in the face
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