As if everything around me didn't depress me already,
He wanted me, and i wasn't willing, nor ready.
His face made my teeth grind with hate,
I should've took his life, but now it's too late.
He held me down and I couldn't breathe,
It didn't matter what i said, he wouldn't leave.
It wasn't until he got what he wanted that I got away,
That was long ago, but I dream of it to this day.
One of the worst experiences of my life,
And when it's brought up, I strife.
For that man to die wouldn't be a shame,
Yet, I never told anyone, haven't even mentioned his name.
No one would believe me, no matter how hard i try,
So, I fold my hands, and pray that he dies.
*
I'm already insane. Yes, indeed I am mad,
So, perhaps another visit from him wouldn't be so bad.
I could show him my knife,
and cut off what ruined my life!
Just had to let it out. Poetry happens to be thee absolute best way to do so..
*Be Safe*
