Blame
I put myself at fault
Because who else is responsible for me but me?
My actions, my emotions,
All the events happening to around me

I own it.
I own my mistakes so I can learn from them
So I blamed myself
Because somehow, I should’ve known better, done more

Now, I realize I was a child
The world was beyond my control
There is nothing I could’ve done to change the outcome
Which digs the hole deeper of shame

I wonder how the hole became
Why it started
Who dug it so deep all this time
And I remember you bringing the shovel.

You were putting the shovel to use
You were helping the shovel by giving it a home.
And although the shovel made mistakes in the past,
You were the forgiving person here to give them an opportunity.

You never considered yourself a saint,
But always considered your position as one to give from.
I wonder if you know how many of these people you invested in
Dug the hole for me.

I wonder if it makes any difference at all.
If you didn’t know, shouldn’t you have?
As the parental unit, you should’ve known
That these strangers were sexually abusing me.

You must’ve had some inkling that these people
Needed your help because they needed help
But in more ways than a logical one
And if you did know what you were bringing,

You are as responsible for digging the hole
Just as them.
I want to blame you, I want to shame you
All I can do is blame me

Because you always told me I should know better
Look at the people coming in and out of the house
Learn from them and their mistakes
I am one of their mistakes.

I’m one of yours too.
I was a child, you were accountable for me
Yet no one held you to that
But it was prized to you, to blame me.

Blame the step-daughter,
Who was a perfect student, “the golden child”
Who suddenly struggled to stand straight
Because of the holes beneath her.

In the end,
It changes nothing.
You are the same person 14 years later,
I’m just the last one you traumatized.