Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice shame on me. But three times, someone shoot me
Day one. I cry I'm lost, hopeless, and hands tied. I can't sleep alone. The panic attacks, the terrors. Day two. Something is wrong but what. I investigate. The phone shows me the answer. The evidence is a dagger that stabs my heart and twists. questioning confirms how often and how long its been and anger hits. Day three. I search. I sit in the closet in tears hiding from the little girl that calls you her second daddy. I don't want her to see the pain you've caused. Day four. I piece the puzzle slowly together and hurt more. I wish it was cheating instead. Day five. I regroup. Picking up the pieces of everything I've built that you have now torn down. Reminding myself how I was raised. Day six. Deliver apologies to the ones that were fully to blame when in reality it was you. Day seven. I'm getting stronger now. Hearing my mother's words echo in my head. I can and will do this alone. Day eight. I think. I hurt. I decide. And I pack. I can't Do it. T