When I was
seven years old
I crept down our stairs
in the dark
it was just about midnight
on Christmas Eve
and I
wanted to catch Santa Claus
as he put presents
under our tree

When I was
fifteen years old
I laid on his bed
in the dark
it was in the evening
during the summer
and I
nervously waited for him
to shove his *****
inside of me

I hid
near the fireplace
anxiously awaiting an arrival
hands clenched into tight fists
giddy with anticipation
waiting in the dark

I spread
open my legs
feeling pressured and defeated
the TV blared so that
his mom wouldn't hear
my hands clenched into tight fists
I didn't want to touch him
but I
waited in the dark

I didn't see Santa Claus
instead
it was my parents
shoveling presents under
our tree
my verbal exclamation of shock
and betrayal
led to them disciplining me
for sneaking around
in the dark

I didn't look at him
instead
my eyes wandered around
his room
gazing at the guitars and
posters and
the closet and
even the TV
he ******* and
left me there, cold
in the dark

At school,
I told all of my friends
that Santa Claus wasn't real
I wanted everyone to know
the counselor pulled me aside
and said that it wasn't fair
for me to take this
from the other kids
it wasn't right
it wasn't my place
"Let them stay innocent
a little while longer."

I didn't want anyone to know
when I lost
my virginity
tears bubbling at my waterline,
I looked at myself
in disgust
It wasn't fair.
It wasn't right.
It wasn't his place.
Except there was no counselor
for me to speak to
only the sound
of water droplets
falling
as I cried in the shower

I thought that
I lost my innocence
when I found out
that Santa Claus wasn't
real.

But
this IS real
and hurts
so
much
more.