My Shame #1

Sometimes, I daydream- -those daydreams become things I'd rather forget. Secrets I held close to myself as a child that I, as an adult regret. Sometimes I'd cry in the dark, silent so no one could hear I'd carry my shame deep in my soul but on my arms, when it's too much to bare. I rethink those times, when I'd sold myself to a devil Sometimes I'd curl up in self hatred, my mind crudely disheveled I hate to remember, what I allowed to happen to me; Why did I allow it to go on? Why did it happen to me? I wouldn't dare to tell anyone for fear they'd judge me as filthy For fear they'd blame me for allowing him to taint me. I allowed him to dirty my body, dirty my soul, to take advantage of my naivety. How could someone do this to anybody? My shame is like a wound rubbed with salt I was nine and he was fifteen and somehow, it feels like my fault.