What he did to me was never okay, but the shame of knowing I was touched by a man that didn't know me.....didn't love me. Well that was enough to keep me silent, for him it worked out pretty well getting off scratch free, walking in the halls and tormenting me with those eyes.
Those eyes I looked into while I tried to scream.
Those eyes that where vacant and held no emotion.
Those eyes tricked me with the softness at a first glance, then as you looked deeper there was temper, a cruelty in them. I couldn't quite describe or grasp what had happened because IT! didn't happen but it felt quite the same, felt like shame.
IT! Became this big secret that I didn't utter, yet when I finally got the courage all I could was stutter. The worst part of IT? "What where you wearing?" Wanna know? Jeans that only had holes in the knees, a sweatshirt, my schools sweatshirt, it was red, no string. I had Minnie Mouse socks on my feet. So what I was wearing couldn't have mattered that fucking much!
YOU ARE READING
Somewhere
PoetryWe're all creating different stories that end the same, don't regret yours. Please do not steal or take my work as your own. I would leave to hear feedback!
