I thought you were broken.

I thought my eyes were wide open when I walked into this.

I thought I knew what you needed.

I was going to pick you up, dust you off, and heal your busted broken wings.

You stole mine.

I gave you my secrets, opened my world to you.

You left me feeling broken.

Tried to show you a world without abuse.

Showed you images of safety.

I covered your head when it rained.

I told you you could take up space.

You stole mine.

I made you believe you were beautiful.

I fed you.

You bit me.

You made me believe I was ugly.

You left no space for me.

You became a devastating flood.

You shoved images of danger in my face.

You reminded me of the existence of abuse. 

The secrets became the thrown you sat on and the weapons you used.

You stole my wings and burned them.

Covered me in mud and threw me on the ground.

I walk around you so blind now.

You tried to break me.