My Turn To Tell My Story Poem by mona martinez

your games you played,
the lies you told,
just to keep me a secret,
you made me lie as good as you,
just so we wouldn't get caught,
but i was a kid,
kids lie and they don't get believed,
who would care?
kids get over it,
we don't remember nothing,
if only that was true,
we get over it,
that what they said,
if they only knew,
what went on behind close doors,
do you think they will feel the same?
they seen you as a saint?
i seened you as the devil,
that came straight from hell,
i didn't deserve to be mistreated,
i didn't deserve to be force to do anything,
but i was your little pet,
i could never stop you,
i just did what you told me,
scared out of my mind,
and sometimes wishing i was dead,
than to go through another day of abuse,
and throught life with pain,
pain a child just didn't understand,
force to live in my own little world,
where nobody could hurt me,
what did i do wrong to be your little puppet?
that all i ever was to you,
you never seen me as a person,
just as an object to fill your needs,
what did i get out of it?
dang memories i don't even want,
and stuff i can't explain how it makes me feel,
i feel lost,
i don't think that feeling will ever go away,
i tried to make it so many times,
i'm stuck in the past with you,
where you doing the things to me all over,
only this time,
i have front row seats and i don't have a choice,
but to watch everything you did to me,
at times i don't believe it to be real,
but this pain is so dang bad at times,
for it to not be real,
sitting on the floor on my knees,
looking up at you,
i knew what was coming,
it why i didn't even put up a fight,
without a fight,
it will be over sooner,
rather than later,
it never seem like it ended soon enough,
left to zone out and not feel a thing,
showing tears was never an option,
it only made you get rough,
i was force to just take it,
got so good at hiding the pain,
i walked around not feeling a thing,
it often just felt like a bad dream,
you try to run there just no excape,
you use to say that i would turn you on,
that if i only knew what i did to you,
i would understand why,
you did the things you did,
i was just a child,
anybody with half of a brain can see that,
i did nothing,
yet i'm the one suffering,
how is that even fair?