Am I wrong when I say "no"?
Am I wrong to fight back?
Maybe I should just stay there,
and take your slaps.
I hate how this feels,
I hate the loss of virtue.
But it's not my choice,
and it doesn't seem to hurt you.
No remorse. No guilt.
You keep going, enjoying yourself,
while my spirit is killed.
No, not killed.
MURDERED.
But you worry not.
For I take the fault.
I'm the whore, I'm the one that wanted it.
Or so they say. And so you say.
First, I'm angry that you get away,
but after a while,
I realize that that is the way.
I shall be forever more,
to you, and everyone,
a whore. .
YOU ARE READING
Sure, Thanks, I am Fine
PoetryDepression Anxiety Insomnia Heartbreak Unloved Crazy Scared Joyful Happy Bullied Everything listed here is something I've either felt or gone through. As have many others. But is it easy to say out loud? No, it never is.
