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sleepover all summer
There was ***** and stolen cigarettes
There were long nights in her bed
There was a 10 year old learning about things he shouldn't know
There was secrecy, "our little secret"
She made me feel special
She was older and mature
This stuff was mature;
Even if it hurt
Even if I bled
Even if made me sick
I learned that a child's body is a play thing,
Locked inside a damp, broken toy box until it was to be used again
I learned that a child's mind was of little value without its sweet and soft body
No child ever came out of that house, that locked toybox
A child died in that house,
Mind damaged beyond repair
But thank goodness it's body is still in tact
An empty body,
An empty husk of a child,
It's much easier to use
Without that body this child is worthless
I apologise if this poem comes of as glorification/fetishisation, it's not intended to.
Trigger warning for themes of CSA/*******.
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