17.12.12

Six years of innocence.
How does it feel when you're not the one trying to get rid of it.
I'm swimming in it.
This evil that has blanketed over me so young.
I'm still grinding in the evil that has won.
But I'm trying to make it my power.
Stand atop the evil tower.
Six years old.
Brain gone cold.
How many more Mississippi until I can let it go.
You said that it would make us best friends.
Then why am I on my knees on the side of my house.
While you're gettin' tha gettin'.
And I'm slurpin' and slipin'
Six years old, just for a best friend, I am wishin'.
But how could I hate you for it.
A fool, yourself.
I'm sure they used the same line on you.
When they took the three year old you to hell.
And six years old, you pour this hell down onto me.
But you're not the only one, there is also she.
She who would rid me of my clothes.
Go down and explore.
Have me do the same.
Throw her brother into the game.
Eight years old.
And sexually she told.
She wondered what lips would feel like.
I tried, but I ran from fright.
She tried to have her brother make love to me at night.
And even at eleven.
Sleepover with the normal popular queens.
One falls asleep.
The other's on top of me.
Welcome to my first kiss.
Something I could have missed.
A girl wasn't my intended spit.
But she's grinding, and I'm following it.
And it continues on for years.
My only action are these girls throwing me my fears.
And the actions become greater and greater.
Things I would save to do with men for later.
And the situation clones itself.
Another girl another house.
But same old same, on top of me and in my mouth.
And all of these things.
The self destruction they would bring.
Sitting on top of my gazebo.
Watching my fist swing.
Right until I can see the pores on my skin.
Straight into my eye, releasing the evil within.
A body that's been tossed and used too true.
It only felt right when it came from me, too.
Waking up swollen, black and blue.
Look in the mirror, a black eye from you.
And fifteen years old.
Four months of caging the soul.
Drowning in 540 milligrams.
I'd look out the window to see the shadow men.
Waiting for me, taunting.
The rape they were flaunting.
My paranoia had me restless.
I'd find myself yelling for them to come and get this.
Get this over with, my shadow friends.
I know I'm destined for this end.
Born and raised in the evil sexual haze.
I know you're here to take me, 
I'm no longer afraid.
But as these 540 milligram hallucinations disappeared.
As seventeen, the shadow men became real.
Body limp and eyes closed.
He comes up to begin the show.
The pain made me mumble.
Mumble no, this hurts me so.
But these are words the shadow doesn't know.
And he does as he pleases.
Laying limp with closed eyes, I'm dreaming other dreams.
But the shadow, he leaves.
And I consider that I can finally lay there serene.
But there's a shadow family.
And the shadow brother appears.
He shadowly does as shadows please.
Limp dripping in degraded grease.
The pain is not something that I could quickly ease.
They don't speak the same language as me.
But at least after that, no more shadows will chase me.
It's a bit interesting.
That I saw them before they came.
FIfteen years old hallucinating out my window.
Only to meet them at seventeen dead and cold.
And so because of this ancient purity inside of me.
A six year old still screams Mississippis.
I'd like to find her show her some sweet.
And give her some good old glory.
No one will be touching her for the while.
And together we can recreate a smile.

No comments:

Post a Comment