Things The World Should Have Told Me

 

No one tells you,

That when you’re 11.

That w are people,

That these people will break you.

 

No one tells you,

That when you’re this young.

The hand touching you,

Doesn’t belong on you.

 

No one tells you,

That you should scream.

That you should cry,

Make him bleed for the first time, the next and the next.

 

No one tells you,

That when you’re older.

These things will haunt you,

These things will hurt you; every day.

 

No one tells you,

That you won’t stop blaming yourself.

That you wish you weren’t so big-chested,

That had you looked different; you’d be okay.

 

No one tells you,

That when that man disappears.

A part of you will repress it; forget it,

But you’ll always feel dirty.

 

No one tells you,

That when you’re older; you’ll cry.

That you will wish you could have said then,

That you could have saved yourself.

 

No one tells you,

That you deserved to be safe.

That you needn’t felt that way,

That you shouldn’t have been silent.

 

No one tells you,

That this will haunt you; always.

That you will never have courage,

Because admitting it will destroy you.

 

No one tells you,

That till those men paid for their crimes.

That you won’t stop feeling this way,

That you will never ever be free.

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