WRITTEN AT THE AGE OF TWELVE

I was a child then,

So trusting of you.

I would have given my life

And soul to make you happy.

I believed your words.

I needed to believe in someone.

Little did I know the cost

Doing that would bring…

I ended up in a closet,

Beating my fist against the wall…

Asking why and  unable

To comprehend it all.

Falling finally to the floor and

covering my head in complete despair,

I wailed for the one who could not

Comfort me, who did not care.

And all the while knowing

The only way “self” survived,

Was to deny the fact

That I had been deprived.

-written by Yu/stan/kema-