Thirteen was when I met him and gave him my flower ,
Only to have him step on it,
Squishing the shit out of it like a weed in the ground.
Then came the drugs the occasional way to hide my pain,
Just a little to help me breath again.
Then came each thrust ,
Each missed day of school just to feel him in between my legs.
YOU ARE READING
the depths of my despair
PoesiaYin & Yang . The good ,The bad. A balance between the two. This is the dark finding it's light through the depths of despair.
