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Fear...
when I was ten I screamed
for it to stop, for him to let
me go, but the door shut anyway.
Taking my innocence with rough
lips and calloused fingers,
it was too easy.
Time...
five years later I cower
from the stares I receive as
I sway my hips and flip my long
blond hair over my shoulder.
And yet the butterflies flutter
in my stomach and I blush,
want to discover.
Confusion...
his eyes met mine and I wanted
to feel his skin against me as
we sighed, but he's my mother's boyfriend.
I hear their screams through the
paper thin walls seperating our
rooms and I wish I were screaming,
instead of her.
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