Reckoning

They could have just loved me.
They could have just protected me.
But demons don’t know love.

From the very beginning, I was the one they discounted.
Someone had to be the sacrifice, and it was me.
Everything has been thrown at me—purposely—
friends, family, institutions, the so-called “safety” of my own home.

The closest to me experimented with me,
testing boundaries, seeing what they could get away with.
Once they got a taste, it never stopped.
So young, so early, the lines between right and wrong blurred,
fog laid thick across my eyes.
And I trusted, because I had no choice.

They stayed close only because of the sins they committed,
because they needed to keep me contained,
held under their thumb, a secret they could try to manage.
They thought love—false, twisted—would hold me in their foggy dream.

But they didn’t know me.
They didn’t know my spirit, my guides, my dreams,
the divine whispers that led me back to myself.
Every memory they tried to erase returns now,
sharper than ever, with clarity that cannot be ignored.

I have watched them,
observed their illusions,
the way they continue to operate in their separation from the Most High.
They thought they had me.
They tried to fracture me, split me,
drug me, manipulate me, gaslight me into forgetting who I am.

Spirit showed me the truth.
A medium illuminated it:
they believed they could act in complete discretion,
their deception hiding behind a false mask of love.
But spirit says: no more.

Now, every lie, every shadow they slipped into,
has no power over me.
I am remembering.
I am asking.
I am seeing.
The Universe, Spirit, God—they guided me alone.
No one planned to tell me the truth—but the divine did.

And this terrifies them.
They remember what they did.
They remember the decades they thought they got away with it.
I carry none of their fear.
I carry none of their shame.

I am their reckoning.
I am the voice of truth.
I am not looking back.