As a girl of 8,
I enjoyed skirts and dresses,
But after the incident,
Those were the things I hated to possess.
Confusion and terror haunted my dreams,
Hatred growing lowering my self esteem,
"Why me", I always wondered,
Covering my chest and legs.
Nightmares always reminded me,
Of the horror I had faced,
Wondering if the lord was disappointed
And frowning at the holy hypocrite.
A place of worship stained by a devil hovering over me,
With an evil grin and massive hand groping my chest
Pressing hard, hurting, persistent.
Years pass by and yet I still feel the pain
Knowing well of the reason,
Yet too afraid to explain
Only to have the fear further deepen.
YOU ARE READING
Unspoken thoughts
PoetryHello! This book consists of my thoughts that I have turned into poetry. They mostly consist of sad poems related to love or just some thoughts/ feelings that have come across my mind. This book is not complete and I will be adding more to it eventu...
