Framing the Picture PaintedMature

this actually started out as a poem, but then took a turn towards something a bit more direct. i will admit that i skirt around the main topic just a bit, but you will just have to forgive me- rape (attempted or otherwise) really isnt the easiest thing to talk about.this is a personal account- as everything i write is generally personal, then even more so.

all those nights i should've stayed in, tucked into the safe confines of my blankets-but  i could never resist the call. i couldn't resist the chance to taste the good life. so i ventured into the dark trying to find a light that would send my shadows running- but humans create their own demons.in my valiant journey to become an elite version of myself i found that there is no good life-just people pretending that theyre living when all they're doing is forgetting the lessons they never took the time to learn.so i learned how to forget like the best of them- and i got drunk, so drunk the sky and ground were one and the same to me; and i got high, so high my eyes bore witness to approximately 180 brand new galaxies in the bottom of a rain puddle. i forgot so much that i didn't realize that human touch is dangerous;that i cant trust everyone-'cause not everyone has a right of passage into my life- some people refuse to pay the tolls at the crossroads. so as they travel the highways of my legs, encompass the valley between the hills of my breast, and take their time over the flat plain of my stomach nearly devouring all the life in the capitol of this lonely,lonely island...i pay the price. the price of nearly losing my innocence.

 

The End

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