May 2, 2012
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Shudder over me--
Wrestling, bodies writhing,
Him on top of my childish body—

Prone on my belly
His hands sneaking up my shorts
To private spaces inside—
“Stop it!”

Conscience calls out
Some part knowing things were all wrong—

Later, his hands sliding up my shirt
Massaging things not quite there—

Perched on his lap, legs sprawled
Not knowing any better—
Who was the adult?
Who was the child?
I misplaced that thing, trust
With a perverted man
Who only wanted my youthful body.

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Chez said...
May 20, 2012 at 6:23 pm

Well done and explained. Well said! 

Appreciate deeply the feelings and am glad you are strong enough to share the experience and brave enough to speak out. 

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