Sometimes I feel so tiny, as in little; young.
Some things take me back to that desolate time.
Like candy, and cotton and egg with soldiers,
And other things but those which make my cry.
Rape and abuse, mistrust; being used.
These are things I've been tied to.
Never will I forget the things I used to do,
Just to try and escape from a nightmare.
Today I am twenty-five and it dawns upon me;
However old I grow, I still feel tiny, as in little; young.
Ill never escape the claws I was introduced to.
They have become the crutch I must lean on.
Sombre I feel as I rely on these claws,
Whom never allow me to just be.
They have taken my name; caused me extreme pain
Yet I must live beside them for all eternity.
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