I have a feeling 

That there’s truth to it.

Someone’s hand on my throat

Putting me against the wall.

I remember it all.

But the face,

It has blurred with time.

And maybe I blocked it out

Or passed out.

Who knows?

All I know is 

That it wasn’t my fault.

I was just a little girl. 

And my mother

Was young. 

Who’s to blame?

The mother or the bad egg?

Maybe something else happened.

Whenever I ask questions,

I’m locked out

And the phone hangs up:

Dead silence on the line. 

Funny how we can’t admit

To being wrong

Even the ones singing the sad songs

With a bottle in their hands. 

Mmhmm. Yeah. 

I have a feeling 

That there’s truth to it.

No matter what you say,

I remember that. 

And I choose to love you.