amyleeotepfan19
Curiousity Killer
Love is the slowest form of suicide...
Posts: 22
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Post by amyleeotepfan19 on May 18, 2006 11:22:24 GMT -5
WARNING! - this poem contains material that may trigger memories of some very bad experiences for those people who have shared in this pain. It contains things about childhood sexual abuse.
Stolen Innocence
I remember it like it was yesterday It's such a vivid memory. The way he laid me on his king-sized bed And raped me of my innocence.
I was only 5 years old Why did it have to be me? He shouldn't have done this to anyone But especially a child.
His niece His own flesh and blood. He seems to have had no soul. He was dead and emtee inside.
I would lay there and cry I would tell him how bad it hurt. That wouldn't stop him from finishing. He would just tell me to "Shut the fuck up!"
I felt so dirty and ashamed And like it was all my fault. I wanted to tell but I was scared. He threatened me with harm.
I was young and naive I didn't understand What was happening Or why it was happening to me.
All I did know then Was that something was missing. A part of me was gone. I now realize what that was.
My innocence The childhood that I had left. That he underhandedly stole My innocence.
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Atheist Saint
Crazed Fan
Poetic Terrorist
Blending the 21'st centrury with hate
Posts: 83
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Post by Atheist Saint on May 18, 2006 12:14:48 GMT -5
Very well written and also very very sad
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