What You’re Made For


When you’re five
lying in bed waiting for
the wood floors to creak
you lie so still
so he’ll think you’re asleep
When you’re ten
you think here he comes again
you start to shake
so scared you pee the bed
At twelve you begin to develop
his friends begin to say you are so pretty
as they give you a wink and slobbery grin
By now you’ve heard it all
as they grab and pinch or
push you against a wall
the hardness of their privates
pushing like a stick again and again
It hurts but not as bad as what
happens at night
Now you’re in high school
and a jock spikes your drink
taking you to his car pushing
you in the backseat
muffling your screams
his whisper of if you tell
I’ll say you gave it freely
You cry all the way home
sneaking quietly up the stairs
too ashamed and scared to tell
conditioned by the “no one will
believe you” or “I will hurt you more”
They are the many, besides
no one will believe you.
You tell yourself you’re not
really a whore or an easy fuck
those pretty names meaning
You deserve what you get
So you get high with the shit
bought on the street
to forget for a little while
this is what you are made for.
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A Piece of Your Mind Please

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