Stolen

He was older than me.
Only five years.
I was six years old
But he had me in tears.
He had a gun.
Probably wasn't loaded
But how was I to know?
He had a knife
It was sharp
It had me scared for my life.
He stole something I can't get back.
It was stolen.
My stolen innocents.
I felt bad for telling.
It ruined my dad's relationship.
He was her son.
I felt bad.
Like it was my fault.
But I later learned
It was sexual assault.

Author's Note

This takes a lot to put out there. It's about the time I was raped. Thinking about it scares the Shit out of me. I can't give my virginity to anyone. Give me honest feedback please. Thanks.

Reviews

[Misery]

Speaking scripted words from a psychological reference never helps, but...
What is most important about you can never be stolen. Your thoughts, your poems, your strength all flow from your soul, no human can take away your soul, dear poet.

Btw, you are not the fu**** up mess, this world is the fu**** up mess. It's been Fu**** up for centuries and you have only recently stepped into the global madness.

[Daughter of Darkness]

Thank you.😊

[Misery]

You are surely welcome, dear poet.

[Jamestown]

Well written and expressed!
Very sorry you had to go through such a thing:(
but completely honored to read this piece, it really
shows your amazing courage, bravo!
Thanks for sharing and b-blessed!

[Daughter of Darkness]

Thank you so very much.