The first time hit me like a fast-moving pickup truck
Speeding down the highway
I was always an obedient girl, I listened when I was told no
So why couldn’t he?
Pictures would show, adolescent depression
Fragile youth shadowed by absent lies
As my world caved through I believed in myself enough to write
I could never write in a diary or make things seem like they were about me
Him, me or him
Poetry saved me
I’ve never been able to write an autobiography
This may be as close as I’ll ever far
This is me
This is my story