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Seven minutes in heaven
A game kids use to play
I got my turn one warm summer day
It was meant as a joke
Just kids being mean
Sweet Susie Cooper
When I was only thirteen
I felt sorry for her, locked in a closet with me
The geek, the dork, full of anxiety
Six long minutes together
Alone in the dark
Then from out of nowhere I felt a spark
Just before the door opened
Sweet Susie, She kissed me
And broke my heart
Yall i found my old notebook with some poems i wrote when i was like 12-13, should i post them here? Perhaps make a collection? Let me know what you think in the comments
It was once clean
Filled with clear rain water
Mirroring your reflection
People not noticing its beauty
Stomped on it

Corrupted it with their shoes
The clear puddle was now brown
And *****
Small children wanted to play with it
But their mothers refused, as it was too filthy

But weren't they the reason the puddle was *****?
The children haven't done anything wrong
Yet they blame someone else
For what they have not done

And the puddle was left alone
Sad
With no one to admire it
And slowly but surely
It evaporated
Only to be replaced over and over again
If good is white
And bad is black
Then i am colorblind
YES I KNOW COLOR BLINDNESS DOESNT WORK LIKE THAT..
She was a child but
"what was she wearing?"

"men have their needs"

"your body my choice"

"You asked for it"

"you made that up"

"i bet it wasnt even that bad"


Yet you complain when you get a cold
The painful reality of SA survivors
I
Am
Not
Okay
'Cause
They're
Going to
Find a way
To capture
Us both and i
Will have to
Run away to
A special
Setting
That is
Just a
Land
All
In
I
.
First time writing something like this, I NEED TO FIX UP MY VOCABULARY..
(also, the last word would be "me" but it didnt fit)
The mentall ilness was never an excuse

The abuse was never discipline

The yelling was never making us stronger

The boys never hit us because they liked us

The victims were never attention-seekers

We were never who we seemed to be
Nothing is ever as it seems
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