I could feel his eyes on me

Picking me apart

He did always tell me, I was “oh so very smart”. 

I could feel her eyes gazing through me.  

Why so judgmental?

Yet every time I look at her, I think of her potential.

He always said sweet things to me

Making me feel special

So I said, “okay..”, as he promised to be gentle.

I knew I could convince her 

If I came on way too strong

She said it was okay, so how could it be wrong?

I tried to scrub you off of me

Until my skin was raw and red

But I can’t help but remember you through every tear I shed.

I thought about her touch

Her taste and her smell

She was wrapped around my finger, I knew she wouldn’t tell

As I grew older

It didn’t matter what happened before

I wasn’t your type anymore.

And one day I decided

With all the courage I could gauge

It was time to tell the story I had only kept on the page

As my mother wept for her lack of knowledge, she asked me,

What would make you think it was okay to engage?

I said, he always told me, “you’re mature for your age.”