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This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.

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My innocence lost at a young age
now comes the turning of a page
It's as if time stops and you're frozen
now there can never be a moment of zen
No peace, just madness, confusion and pain
a pain that's always there, forever a stain
Dirty, a stain that's burned into your soul
not just a stain but a very dark hole.

He tells her that he loves her
and he's going to make her purr
He says how much he loves her cries
as he moves between her thighs

He keeps talking, saying how much he loves her fight
some try anything, though most try to bite
But , no, not me, it hurt like he was ripping me
tearing me inside out, so many tears, I couldn't see
Now, pounding away, he says I deserve this
my bruised lips burning from his forceful kiss

A shameful deed done in his parent's bedroom
how I wish I'd known of this impending doom
Save myself from the physical agony and psychological harm
or just pinch my arm really hard and awake to an alarm
I wish this had all been a tormenting dream
but this is real and all I can do is scream

He covers my mouth and tells me to be a good girl
yet, in this moment, all I want to do is hurl
This boy, the pastor's son, was supposed to help my growing faith, not give me pain
this can never be taken back and now I look at him with a growing disdain

My eyes filled with tears
now, visible are all of my fears
Looking at me with sincerity he tells me not to cry
but in this instant, I just want to die
I ask him to please let me go
his thrusting stops but, still, he says no

He starts caressing me and I think this is the worst part
because he touches me like a lover that has my heart
He grabs my chin, lightly, to make me look
but I knew...what he wanted he took

What did he want from me?
why wouldn't he leave me be?

A ten year old girl should never be hurt
like this, treated as if she's dirt
This horrid thing has made me feel so alone
hurting more than a stick or a stone
This day started as an innocent game
but right now my body is his to maim

Do not mistake this to be consensual
his complaints of my struggle seem almost perpetual

Never ending is this series of my cries,
and yet this body of mine defies
I see him smile and hear him moan at my release
and I cry again as I feel my struggles cease
I swear to you, anyone who will hear
never would I want this; he slaps my rear
He smiles and says see all along you wanted it
then it was my budding breast he bit

It hurt so much, his teeth digging into me
tearing me, scarring me, killing me
Not outside but in
with this dark and terrible sin
We all make mistakes but he could've stopped
this horrible event, instead it was my cherry he popped

Tearing away all that was once innocent
body burned, now my soul suffers imprisonment
My joy gone, this he stole from me
my security, yes, this I decree

Once more this shall not happen
many young girls doth it sadden

I do say, never again this shall be
cause from now on, as far as I know, this is me
I will train to become a warrior; a fighter
newfound strength, let pain serve as my provider

Try not to lose myself
from this tragedy I befell

What will be the cost?
because for now I'm lost....
Written by ThiaTartorum
Author's Note
My own experience made me lose perspective when I was writing this. I needed to try different things and let go of writing for a time. As most writers, my poems and characters, the story becomes a...
My own experience made me lose perspective when I was writing this. I needed to try different things and let go of writing for a time. As most writers, my poems and characters, the story becomes a part of you. For me it was already that way. On November 16, 2004 I was raped, I was ten years old and I told my mother what had happened to me. She told me to stop making up stories, she didn't believe me, so I didn't tell anyone else for years and I never reported my rape. I've started to deal with what happened to me and its the hardest thing I've ever had to do. One day when I've learned to live with it, all the hard work will be worth it. Some people have told me that talking about it helps, this is my way of talking about it.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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