when i was four years old

i learned what it meant to be a girl;

his arms around my waist

and his fingers in my curls.

he was thirteen years old

you would think that he'd be grown,

but it's so clear that he wasn't

when he made me feel alone.

and for a while i had never

known exactly what it meant

until i grew up myself;

now that memory leaves a dent.

i don't remember much

but i remember what he did,

i remember i was saved

when his grandmother walked in.

i remember how he blamed me,

how he said it was my fault,

and that i cried to my mother

after my brother mentioned my assault.

that day was the first day

i learned about sin,

and sexual desires,

and the wantings of men.

timeskip some years,

i was fifteen years old

when i looked in their eyes

and saw nothing but cold.

it was clear to me then

that they loved another more;

and thats when i thought

i'd change myself simply for

this person so that

they would love me the same way

and maybe my attractiveness

would make them want to stay.

in some ways i dont blame them

for breaking my heart,

i learned how to heal,

it didn't tear me apart.

for them, i did everything

i changed up my clothes,

if it wasn't thanks to them

i wouldn't know what i know.

if i'm being honest

i hate what i did;

i sexualized myself,

when i should've been a kid.

i started posing in ways

that i thought they would like,

wearing crop tops and mini skirts

that never felt right.

yes, i was attractive

but i was never okay

i didn't do it for myself

i just became a clichè.

i've always felt this wrongness

inside of my skin

for as long as i'd remember,

i'd keep faking grins.

my body was wrong,

but everyone said it was right;

these men, they all worshipped me,

yet i felt nothing but spite.

sometimes i feel his eyes

still staring at me.

his fingers brushing my skin

as he continues the deed.

i wish i had stopped him,

but i know i could not;

what can a girl do

against a man time forgot?

i am still learning

how to cope with the past;

writing my feelings on paper

so if anyone asked,

i could tell them what ive gone through.

explain how it felt.

express how i coped,

with the cards i was dealt.

it's still really hard

to not think of their sins;

the memories remind me

of where i have been.

i now watch closely

and fear over details

but that is just normal

growing up as a female.