I’ve got a dirty secret.
hush now, never tell.
quite a filthy secret-
for which I’ll burn in hell.
see, such a nasty secret.
should never cross ones lips;
so 10 long years I’ve waited
Whilst through my soul it rips.
I’ve sat alone, pretending
that everything’s just fine.
I swore I’d never tell a soul
but after all this time…
I find myself just burning
to say those secret words.
The truth to sink in someone’s ear,
to finally be heard.
The twisted nauseation
to curl around their soul,
As they find that they believe me.
The curse of knowledge in whole.
Alas, it’ll never be spoken aloud.
it’s pretty plain to me.
that though I yearn to speak these words.
There’s a risk, a prescribed fee
You see, it’s not so easy
to tell such brutal things.
To say the truth when he told me
“I’ll kill you if you speak.”
so here I sit, just 18.
I’ll never say a word.
on a site that shall forget me.
like this poem never even occurred.
And though I’ll never speak of
what was done to me that date,
in anonymity, I’ll type it out.
put simply:
I was raped.
3 comments
See after I read the first 4 stanzas, I thought you were going to say it was “I Love You.”
Sad ending buddy 🙁
Therapists have to keep stuff like that confidential. It might help to really talk about it with someone empathetic.
You’re not alone. I was 12 when it happened to me.