I sit here
Blade in hand
But also beside me
As I try my best not to

But as I sit here
My mind floods with thoughts
And I begin to silently scream

Please
Dont let him
Near me

Please
Let me
Out of here

Please
Let me
Just be safe

Please
Give her
Back to me

Please
Dont
Leave
Me

Please
Dont
Use
Me

Please
Dont
Touch
Me

Please
Dont
Abuse
Me

Please
Dont
­Abandon
Me

Please
DONT
LET
HIM
BACK
IN
THE
HOUSE

For I fear for the day
Or maybe the night
That it happens
AGAIN
But you don't listen to my words
My please
My cries
For you to care

So please
Dont let it happen
Again
For I may not
Make it out
Alive

What's one more step
When my soul
Has already died?

At age 3
I began to see
That the world wasnt as kind
As it first seemed to be

I'd wake up to his voice
Loud and unrelenting
And I'd cry until
My eyes were dry

At age 5
I became sad
And tired
Losing the only friend I had

For my dog died
And could no longer protect me
So I cried
Until my eyes were dry

And every night after
I'd stay awake
Watching the cars drive by
My window
All night
Wishing once more
That she could be asleep
By my side

At age 8
We moved to a new place
And for a little while
Things were at peace

We lived in a campground
In a tent
Surrounded by other people
Some who I called friend

That was until
My friend split her head
And I watched her bleed
Unable to breath
Yet I was punished
And no longer able to see
The friend she had come to be

At age 9
Things fell apart
All because
He told me for the first time
That he loved me

But it was all lies
As he'd sneak into my room
Late at night
And steal the light
From my eyes

At this time
I also began to
Not wanna eat
Because
If I made myself
Skinny and sick
Maybe he wouldnt
Comment on my body

At age 10
I became the me
That I wish never became
Reality

I started to harm my skin
Hoping to bleed
So that the only reason
I was bleeding
Wasn't because of him

At age 11
My classmates
Started to ask me
Why I was always
Spending all day
Locked away
In the nurse's office

I would always just say
Oh
I'm just tired today
But the truth is that
I'd come to school
Crying everyday
And couldn't function
So they'd hide me away

At age 12
I ran away
They didn't even notice
That I was gone the entire
Beggining of the day

When I was found
I was yelled at
And called selfish
So that night
I tried to end my life

I didn't succeed
And after a bit
I started dating
People online

I was groomed
And used
And abused
But atleast someone
Wanted me

At age 13
I could no longer be
Living for the purpose
Of being for him

So I told my brother
Who betrayed me
I told my mom
Who decided
That it was me
Who had to leave

She'd visit me
Once a week
And always update
HIM
On me

So I started to change myself
So he couldn't possibly picture
Who I'd come to be
With this new family

And so that
The person who ***** me
Would no longer be attracted
To the person
They'd now see

At age 14
I started to change even more
For it didn't feel like enough
To me
And I didn't want to be recognized
If he were
To see me

Later that year
My mom also asked me
To once again
Come be with her
And live in a new place

It felt like a dream
Like everything would be okay
And I could live with a real parent
But I soon learned
That biological
Doesn't mean real

At age 15
He came back
Into the house
Into my life

And my home
Turned into
A cold dark
Nightmare
All over again

But I just told myself
That it was just that
A nightmare
It wasn't real
And I began to let myself
Be used
By partners

My body was the only thing on me
That people would love me for
So why not use it

Near the end of the year
I moved in
With someone
I didn't even think I loved
But he cared for me
And he liked my body

At age 16
I knew I loved him
And I always would
For he took care of me
And did his best
To shield me from all the bad people
That would harm me

Even though sometimes
He couldn't handle
What it meant to be
In love with me

And I began to learn
That I was more than my body

But then
I was also once again
***** by another
Who was supposed to be
A new friend

Now we are here
At age 17
I was put into an abusive
Foster home
And had to call the police
After walking to a gas station
For 2 hours
At 1 AM

I ended up
Back at my moms
At a place
Where I never feel safe

I was ***** by
Another two
People

One who I loved
And felt the most safe with
In such a long while

And another
Who was just supposed to be
A friend

I've been touched
Another two times
By someone my mom
Decided to be with
And decided to date

After she knew
She still stayed
With him

But now I'm at my end
Because
I can't get the feeling
Of his hands
Off of me

I lay awake because of you
Thinking of all the things i want to do

I want to sleep
I want to be able to be free
And leave my house
Without the thought
That you might be there
Lingering
As I stare
Frozen and incapable
Of repair

I will cut the part of me
Where I feel
Your presence hovering

I will cut the part of me
That you loved the most
To look at and see

I will cut the part of me
That makes poeple
Lust after me

If I cut my face
Your gaze will travel
Down
Down
Down

If I cut my chest
Your gaze will falter and break
As you get angry at me

I can see you in my mind
Hovering over
The piece of me that is now damaged

If I cut the parts of me
That you always wanted to see
You will drown
In my memories

Hello
This is me

I am seventeen
But sometimes I age regress
And can be
Much younger than perceived

I am short
And small
But I don't mind
As it makes it easy to hide
And confine myself
Within small spaces
Or up in your arms

I go for walks
Late at night
When most people are peacefully
Wiithin a dream
As I drown within
The music I hear

I collect stuffies
And all the broken bits
Of my heart
And soul
So I don't become empty

People use
Abuse
And re-use me
But I still only want
To see them happy

I collect memories
Within a box
And my gallery
Afraid one day
I'll forget about my days
So I collect and keep them safe

I was never truly a kid
For I was only ever trapped
In thoughts of escape
But I've found that
No matter the place
Things are still always the same

I trust animals
One hundred precent
But people are always lacking
A small precentage
Even though I give them
Every piece of me

I am innocent and sad
Collecting onsies
And stuffies
And cuddling whoever will

But also impure and numb
Collecting trauma
And broken dreams
And feeling the touch of wandering hands
In places they shouldn't be

Twelve.
Such a wonderful age.
The human is still young, yet beginning to gain more knowledge.
But my twelve was different.

My twelve wasn't playing with toys
Or reading books all day
No.
It was about working a hard job under my stepfather's violent hand.

About crying out for help
Yet too quiet to be heard.

My twelve was about finding the power of
Turning mental pain into that of physical
About the box of pills in my drawer
And a bottle of water helping them get into my system

My twelve was about going to sleep
And hoping i'll never wake up
About my mother not knowing her child tried to end his life
At its very beginning.