Standing there, you are seven,
and they make jokes because you misunderstand
and the reason for such is because of your "purity."
You dont understand their jokes and their jeers because IT hasnt happened yet,
you are still here, as a child to them.
A child, slowly learning distrust in every touch of your brother and every stroke of your uncle. You cry to be heard, even in your sleep
but the slope of listening is too steep for anyone to climb for you.
So you stop.
You quiet down
and you dont have to drown in the memories because they disappear
but then you are thirteen, and his whispers make you shiver
and you dont know why he thinks thats a good thing
so you try to say no but he reaches for the thing that you fear the most - and he uses it.
He uses it the way you think he will use that knife if you utter another whisper,
the way his stories haunt you and make you shiver
but you cannot shed a tear because the day you do is the day he wins.
And he cannot win you, you say,
but you still dont remember,
and the kids at school all ask you if IT has happened
and you dont know the answer so you just shiver and go back into his arms
because he must know the answer.
And then youre fourteen and you finally give IT away
and youre underwhelmed.
It wasnt supposed to make me feel that way, you think.
It wasnt supposed to make me cry,
it wasnt supposed to make me REMEMBER. You remember.
And everything you forgot slams you like a ton of bricks
and now you are SLUT
you are WHORE
you are anything
but IT is all that matters to them.
You do not have a say in yourself, so you agree with them.
Until you are fifteen.
You find a boy you think is finally sweet
and hes the only boy you thought youd meet who called you beautiful and meant it.
The only boy who disagreed with the lies spewed from the mouths of teens who didnt know what you remembered.
Two years pass and youre seventeen,
the world is spinning around you like a globe that was shaken too hard
and you dont know how to stop it so you just get dizzy
and let another fantasy take you.
Youre seventeen.
You find a boy that will help you stop the shaking
but it keeps on coming back and this is your LIFE
and you realize that youre in the midst of your own strife
and you cannot stop the spinning because youre trying to find direction within your fucking life because IT haunts you.
HE haunts you,
THEY haunt you,
IT stares you blank in the face and you scream FUCK YOU
but you cry in place of the power you thought you had.
You are seven.
