I’d know

I wish I could’ve protected you from the grown men your mother never did.
From secrets that weren’t meant to be kept and from the nice policeman who told you it was bad to lie to the cops;
They never did do that lie detector test to prove you were telling the truth,
But you were.
I’d know.
I wish I could’ve prevented the tears you dried with
blankets that weren’t yours in beds that never felt like home;
From people who accused you of bullying
the underdogs but in reality you were the underdog.
They told you again you were lying,
but you weren’t.
I’d know.
I wish I could’ve guided you away from the arms of those who claimed to love you while objectifying you;
You were not “wise” at 15 but they told you it was okay because mentally,
You were so much older.
They were just manipulating you for their own selfish agenda.
I’d know.
I wish I could’ve confiscated the reasons you used your razors in all of the wrong ways-
That I could’ve ladled that liquid anguish out of
your chest like it was soup so that it wouldn’t harden and metastasize like cancer;
Leaving you vulnerable to all of the self destructive decisions you made for years to come.
I’d know.
And god, how I yearn to have been able to give you those things;
For the comfort they would’ve brought.
For the lessons you wouldn’t have had to learn in those ways.
For the safety you deserved, and the love you would’ve received without punishment.
People say all the time to make the best of situations or cards like you had but;
In the utter chaos and destruction of it all the best you could typically do was almost always the worst for everyone else.
And trust me I’d know,
because I am the older version of you-
the product of those lessons learned now.
I wasn’t there then, and I’m sorry.
But I am now so,
Buckle up kid.
We have healing to do, you and I.