Sometimes I let the wrong people kiss me. And sometimes I let them unbutton my pants. Sometimes I walk in to math class late with out a care in the world. And sometimes I walk for hours until my feet start to blister up and and I can feel the blood rushing underneath my skin rising to the surface. But that doesn't matter. Because sometimes I sit in the rain and cry. And I sleep all day and sometimes I stay up all night.

Sometimes I listen to my music way to loud. I can hear my ear drums crying for help. Sometimes I drink so much alcohol I can feel it intertwining with my veins mixing it's own concoction of blood. Sometimes I get so drunk so I can call you but I still never have enough courage to.

Sometimes I cry while I read books. Sometimes I cry while I watch movies. Sometimes I pretend not to care even though that's all I can do. Sometimes I like to dress up and think I'm a little girl again, because I grew up way to fast. Sometimes I hold myself at night because your not here to do it, but I'm starting to realize that it will never happen again.

Sometimes I hate being a girl.

Sometimes I like to think I'm dead when I alive

When she was six
she didn't know
that it wasn't okay
for boys to hit girls.
She thought it was love taps.
When she was seven
she didn't know
when she said no
he would still get what he wanted. When she was eight
she learned that
she didn't like to be touched.
When she was nine
she learned
not to trust anyone.
When she was ten
she started to cry her self to sleep.
When she was eleven
she started
to blame herself
in every way possible.
When she was twelve
she told her best-friend for the first time.
They cried for hours.
When she was thirteen
she put
the stained red razzor down.
When she was fourteen
she tried to escape
the pain with pretty pills
that made up
the rainbow
and a 10 story fire escape.
When she was fifteen
she told her mom
tears dripping down
like a waterfall
pass her smooth caramel cheeks dripping down
on to her t-shirt
unable to breath
they cried together.
She is 16 now
stronger then ever
keeping her head up high.
But the thing is it's a lie
he says.
She wasn't
emotionally
and physically
abused.
It's a lie he says...
It's a lie laughing
so hard tears running down
his midnight sky
cheeks.
If ages 6&7 were a lie
then.
Her stain cheeks
are a lie.
Her coco butter
filled scars are a lie.
Because abuse
is a lie.
Sure a lie.
He took away her child hood
now let
Him
take away this lie.