Lessons

You learn early
that love wears
a quiet smile,
a gentle voice,
a hand that pretends
to keep you safe.

You learn that trust
is a doorway
people walk through
to take what they want.

You learn that pain
wears familiar clothes,
that betrayal
looks like affection,
that a body can confuse
warning with welcome.

Later, people ask
how you couldn't see it,
how you let it happen,
why you didn't run.
They speak as if the world were simple,
as if the heart of a child
does not cling to the ones it needs
to survive.

Manipulation is patient.
It rewrites the story
of what love means,
until harm feels normal
and safety feels unreachable.

You were not stupid.
You were a child
who trusted.

The failure
was never yours.