It Was Really Aniety

Sat, 12/10/2016 - 21:54 -- Vicky1m

I've spent the last few months brawling with these memories that faze me to this day.

Something from within me drove me to break my character,

enabling my misery to compel my lineage to ignore,

leaving me decaying from the core.

My stomach banned everything; even the sweet vanilla bean I savor every dawn turned to vomit as if my stomach could not admit another snack.

At that point, I had lost all scrutiny and started to appear thin.

It was hard to grasp what was happening so I did not whisper this to anyone, not even the wind.

Remarkably, one day, I could not refuse to abandon hope.

It presumably felt like a lifetime to piece together what was really wrong.

But then I began to replay what had transpired among me and my so-called friend that Labors Day.

As I rewind, I started to question if it had anything to do with him forcing his way into me;

not ceasing when I repeatedly cried "stop" and "get off me."

Regrettably, with guilt, that was the day my purity was robbed from me.

This poem is about: 
Me

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