Childhood, Sanity,

Hah what are those?

Why mine have been ripped away

When I was a young little girl

They were both ripped away from my tiny little soul

Not by my own little choice,

My father thought he had to do it.

Almost as if it were his civil duty

To make his daughter grow up

To be the insane nutshell she is

The nutshell has been cracked

With the memories that come flooding back

Memories of the abuse that was endured.

Physical, Mental and Sexual.

All three happened to me.

Yes, he hit me,

Though it wasn't like I was his main target.

Yes, he tells me I'm worthless.

And I try to fight it off but I can't.

Yes, he molested me.

Then he tells me I'm beautiful.

Now, the truth comes

It's my turn to take over

It's my turn

To take control of my own life.

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A/N: I had to write something, I got the urge to write, and I wrote about whats been bugging me lately. Hopefully this will shed some light on how I've been feeling. And yes, this poem is completly true.