Such A Simple Question

I recently asked myself what life would be life I still ate pork. The image popped into my head a home with warmth spilling out of it, smiling faces in the window, candles glowing proudly. What if I wasn't abused? The question flashed so quickly, I knew that's what this image was. But I was abused wasn't I. Pressured to do something I despised, the place I journeyed to torn and insulted, all done in the name of fixing me. When I was forced to drop the subject of alcohol that was just the next step. The dots hadn't connected in my head, I didn't see how little my comfort meant to you, How you manipulated me to do what pleased you. I remember the fear when you held back the word love. Told me if I just did what you wanted, An ever present threat, If I just listened then we would be okay. I am stuck hearing your voice telling me not to share what I am feeling. The sharp tone you got when I made a mistake, telling me to just trust you a little more, that silenced every concern I showed you. I recently asked myself why I was upset two years later. The image popped into my head of you arguing with me, cutting away at my stability and confidence, manipulating me to think your reality was the only one, chipping away at every part of me, You abused me didn't you?