I may be young but I have bruises and scars .
I may be young but my tongue speaks otherwise .
I may be young but the footsteps I took left my feet in dirt .
I may be young but my heart only captured the pain , gave out the pure and benefited the dirt .
I may be young but my name has been called in different ways ..
all I have left with me is memories ...

The pride I walked was covered between my thighs .
My mom would tell me not to play around men but I though she hated the opposite gender but as I grew older I learnt she wanted no boy to play between my thighs .

Everything changed one night when he actually went on the corner of my bed , in the dark when felt my tiny legs with his hands but he still continued . His hands pushed my body against the wall , kissing me like I liked him and pretended to be in love with me .
I remember clearly that night when he would tear up my dress , and squeezed my little body into pain to find treasures within my skin.
Hit my head against the floor and started ******* me like a little ***** . Cried my heart out but my tears to him became the hit .
His cologne forever remained on my skin..

•Poetess_her. Refilwe Sharmein