I always wanted to write about us when I finally became the age you were when we met, but after all these years, of waiting, I began to realize just how evil you were. Six years between us, six years of holding onto a rope that has always been pulled by you, and still, I'm younger than you were. Two more painstaking years then I will be your age. It's unfathomable how you could take advantage of somebody so young with a "mature" mind and "nurturing" body. But I can't find the words I want to say to you, this is the fourth anniversary of me escaping your cold life. There's no right way to put how I feel and there's nothing I could say to help anyone or feel inspirational because all I feel is pain. There's no metaphor to put on here to lighten my pain, so I will leave it like this.
YOU ARE READING
The Muse Of Nature & Incomprehensible Torture (poetry & prose)
ŞiirThis collection of poetry and prose is all about my life, from the very beginning to very recently. It's a tale of my childhood, relationships of all kinds, all sorts of breakups, trauma, the ups and downs of being a teenage human, and the waves of...
