Thirteen was a very long year for me in a sense of sex and drugs and everything in between ,
That was the begging of high school.
I remember laying on the floor with my sister awoken to the sounds of moaning
His hands down where they shouldn't be on a thirteen year old girl.
I held my pain by not talking about it.
By running to someone who would love me.
Something that would hide the pain.
Someone to hide the pain.
Endless drugs he did and sex that he gave me .
It made everything better for the mean time.
YOU ARE READING
the depths of my despair
PoetryYin & Yang . The good ,The bad. A balance between the two. This is the dark finding it's light through the depths of despair.
