Why do you get to be okay
while I struggle to breathe.
Why do I have to see your face,
and see the same brown eyes that forced me down.
Why can’t I feel clean,
no matter how hard I scrub.
Why do I still feel your hands,
no matter how much I try to forget your toxic touch.
Why do you get to laugh,
while I fall apart trying to survive with this.
Why do I have to suffer like this,
while you walk free.