The Rose

Sun, 07/24/2016 - 18:49 -- drobain

The rose is mine
I cherished it
It's something sacred and unique
Some give it up so fast
Give it away at any moment
To a boy or a girl
With a small price of never getting the rose back See, I am picky and reserved
This gift will only be shared when a diamond ring is placed upon my dainty finger Outside it was dark and cold
I could feel the shivers up my spine
I skate with the guys on occasions Me and Him
Him and Me
We were alone
Gosh he's attractive
His curly hair fell into his deep brown eyes
But I warned him I wanted nothing from him
I'm content being single
I was born single
Why should it bother me now?
He agreed He was sweet
Too sweet
Disgustingly sweet
What the fuck am I getting into? A kiss
One kiss and I pushed him away
"God, you're beautiful" he whispered in his thick Hispanic accent
I blushed
Never heard that before We talked
Discussing work and school
He waited for the right moment
He was an expert manipulator
He stole my rose
My innocence was taken
After, he ran out of sight
He knew what he did
He ignored my cries
I didn't want to
I tried to push him away
But I'm only 5'3"
And he's nearly 6'2" To this day, I cry myself to sleep
Wake up with a terrible headache
Go to school an exhausted ghost among the crowd
Come home
Repeat To this day, I'm scared of most guys
I don't let people in
I shut myself out
I'm quiet and reserved
More terrified than ever
People do not understand why Suicidal thoughts
Bloody wrist, ankles, legs, thighs
Jesus Christ, please help
I just don't care Among the students and even teachers I hear jokes
Suicide jokes
Rape jokes
Racial jokes
Sure, that's REALLY funny A touch on the shoulder will trigger a nervous response
Don't touch me
A kiss on the lips now becomes a threat
Don't hurt me
On weekdays I stay in
On weekends I stay hidden I live in fear that someone will hurt me again
I trusted that boy
I considered him a friend
I don't have friends anymore
I consider them acquaintances
I hate school
Some boys see me as an object
My body is not yours
Don't touch it
Just stop it I feel pathetic without my rose
Sometimes I feel like a whore even though it wasn't my choice
He was a thief with only one cruel intention
A heart
...a rose -D.R.  


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741