Coming to terms with sexual abuse as a young girl
Staring at the dark ceiling
Numb
Dumb to what was happening
The unthinkable
The truly unimaginable
I was nine
One-minute playing tennis, being a kid
The next
I broken into an anxious sweat
I was a marionette
My hands were held
My feet were controlled
My body moved to someone else’s beat
I was deplete
Of all senses
Of all knowledge
My body moved in ways
I could not comprehend
I was way too young to have a boyfriend
This went on
For days, weeks, years
They stole my soul
I fell through a black hole
For years and years
It has taken me forty years to lift my head
To recreate the scene
To think it through
To tell my story
To leave it and them behind
To crawl out from my little girl grave
To try to be brave
I do not know who I am
I lost lots of time
Spinning in my head
Wishing I was dead
I am ready to go out
To live and be a person
To try and be a better version of the little girl
Who lived in fear
To learn to live
To want to be here
To be sincere
To shed the veneer
To be my own puppeteer