what i wish i could tell you

the deepest burden

that i carry as i walk

across the desert,

tempted by the devil,

is “it”.

i can’t name it

by its real name

but i know it well,

as it haunts me

day and

especially night.

i wonder, as i wander

the barren ground

all around me,

when will the temptation end?

do i finally have to

confront the devil?

but what about “it”?

that absolutely

earth-shattering

burden

that i’ve carried

as long as i’ve been alive

“it” may think

it has control over me

but it does not.

so stop fucking everything up.

“it” is not as simple

as “i’m sorry”,

although you would never

say that in the first place.

i’m not a victim.

i’m a survivor.

but you are an abuser.