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.

-Cardinal Hope