It started when I was five years old.
Young, but never got to be.
Not five years old, not six, not seven, eight or nine.
TEN years to hold such a secret,
until I could no longer keep it.
Behind these eyes PTSD lies.
The little girl inside me, she cries.
Now nineteen, beautiful on the outside, BROKEN on the inside.
Unable to remain stable with any guy.
Although young, I knew all along something was wrong.
Totally completely one-hundred percent wrong.
The time he put me in a thong. 13 wearing a G-string?
Just imagine what he’s done to me, not only physically.
Ten years of innocence flushed from that first touch.
I was young, but I remember.
Images continue to flashback.
over and over
I close my eyes, go away.
I open them, and tell myself I am safe.