the abused kid’s best friend
I raised you. Not them. Not for these past three years at least.
Who was the one who taught you all you needed to know about sex besides endlessly penis-vagina pummeling?
Who was the one who answered questions they wouldn’t even fucking answer even though it was their fucking job?
Did they want to keep you powerless or did they just not care? Why did I, your best friend, a fellow teenager, teach you more than they ever did?
Because I’m the one who actually loved you. And now they’re trying to claim you, close you off from me, because they only become interested in you when it’s to keep you from something.
I have to sit back and watch them pretend to love you online like they don’t mock you, demean you, and shame you behind closed doors. I watch them plaster their fake love everywhere and I can’t even share my real love because people will say it’s wrong.
They call you theirs but you don’t even want to be theirs. You want to be mine. You chose me. Not them. Someday they’ll see that.