I am different now,

no longer a child.

I hate the life I have

I want the life I use to have.

Before the incident.

The incident where he felt me up, smooth silk.

I want to erase that day.

Never remember what he did to me,

and the reason why I’m like this.

But no,

this has been injected into my mind

to remind me of what I am.

I am careful about what I say,

obviously I’m not careful enough.

I feel dead inside,

a wilting white rose fading to black.

I want to erase it,

because it serves as a reminder of what I am.