I forgive myself

For wearing iron chain mail mesh
For caring so much
Feeling so deeply
For caring the pain so hidden and well, what if someone finds it, sees it, I show it, show how close I am past broken
I forgive myself for loving people that hurt me,
For being broken
For needing love and working so hard, taking so much hurt because I was willing to do anything, I'd allow them to do anything to me because I wanted to be loved.
I forgive myself for being fucking human and for wanting and needing.
I forgive myself for never being good enough for them to love me.
I forgive myself for being small and fragile and easily damaged.
I forgive myself for hoping day after day after day and being a chump and thinking and hoping...for all the wasted time and energy, if I just kept the secrets, they would love me, if I just didn't protest or fight against it, then they would've loved me.
I forgive myself for thinking I was special and being jealous when others would be so used.
I forgive myself for keeping the secrets so long, for not being able to find a single soul to trust, to tell them.
I forgive myself for all the times I saw him hurt others and did and said nothing.
I forgive myself for being jealous and happy that it was someone else being hurt.
I forgive myself for not killing myself long long long ago.
I forgive myself for choosing to live, for choosing to carry this pain, hidden, wrapped deep inside.
Yes, I forgive myself for living. I forgive myself for being alive.
I forgive myself for feeling the need to punish myself, all the time, secretly.
I forgive myself for being a dirty little sexual thing.
I forgive myself for choosing to live, a lie, for decades.
I forgive myself for pretending to be okay,, even quasi normal.
I forgive myself for all the times I lied and said it didn't hurt or I didn't mind doing that disgusting, filthy thing.
I forgive myself for being a dirty, disgusting filthy thing.
I forgive myself for not beating my mother to death.
I forgive myself for sacrificing myself in the name of saving her, an empty hollow disgusting wretch who freely gave her child to be raped.
I forgive myself for not fighting to clear my name and reputation. No one would believe me anyway.
I forgive myself for having so much hate for her.
I forgive myself for being so incredibly stupid and believing the lies for so long.
I forgive myself for not fighting harder, for not believing in myself, for not having the decency and know how to love myself enough to get away sooner.
I forgive myself for being so incredibly naive and stupid so long.
I forgive myself for being so incredibly damaged.
Mostly, I forgive myself for being stupid enough to stay alive. Word.
I forgive myself for not dying the first time I could have. And for all the times after.
I forgive myself for surviving
And for carrying the pain, guilt and shame so long. It's like I absorbed all their sins and took them upon myself, like I'm just this thing to absolve others.
I forgive myself for not knowing better.
I forgive myself for being so scared all the time, for letting fear take the wheel and run my life.
I forgive myself for never feeling good, for never feeling worthy or that I had anything to offer because I am so tightly wrapped within myself trying to keep the pain in and hidden, like I have no other worth or value. I'm nothing. I'm nothingness. I forgive myself for not liking who and all that I am.
I don't know that I can ever like myself or come to peace with all the things I have done.
I forgive myself for thinking it was okay to torture me. I forgive myself for the pain I was forced to inflict on others.
I forgive myself for not being stronger. For all the times I "agreed" that it was okay to hurt me. I agreed. I said it was okay. Forced to say it, against myself. Forced to agree, so easy to manipulate.
I made promises. Forced to promise. Forced to keep quiet. Forced into sex, over and over and over again.
I forgive myself for hating myself, my parents, my life, others who weren't being hurt.
I forgive myself for thinking the acts so defiling that disclosing them would erroneously be more hurtful than having to continue to endure them.
I forgive myself for believing him. That this would be the last time, that he regretted it, that he would stop, that it wouldn't happen again.
I'm a filthy, dirty, little thing, you know.
I hate who I am. I hate what was done to me. I hate what I had to do. I hate carrying it all. I hate being afraid to disclose because I always feel like a dirty little filthy thing that will do anything for her father's attention.
I hate...me
Can I ever forgive myself for living, for the things I've done