My childhood was a happy one mostly.
It was filled with childish games and toys and friends.
I was a happy kid. Mostly.
My parents yelled at each other a lot.
They'd scream at each other until their faces were bright red.
I was four or five the first time I tried to make them stop.
They picked me up and hugged me tight and set me in another room.
The fighting continued with me out of sight, but still in earshot.
I was in second grade when my parents got divorced.
I was so naïve to think my pieced-together family would hold.
I was innocent until then.
Then I had to grow up real fast.
I had issues at first; unpopularity at school, self-conscious of myself, and had acceptance issues.
I was fourteen when I lost it.
I spun downhill pretty fast after that.
When I was sixteen I had slept with eight different guys and a few girls.
My innocence was lost long before I could even pronounce the word.
My sweet innocence so far gone I can't  even remember having it.