My body had no longer belonged to me and at 5 years old I had learned to grow up.
I carry my body around like a casket and let it be used when it\'s needed only to then bury it six feet under my sheets.
This body does not belong, and I am nothing more than an item subjected to be used then thrown out after someone is done.
These monsters still lurk around in my head. I still have panic attacks in my sleep, but I have learned to let them go unnoticed.
I am still a little person lost in a big big world, but sadly I have let my voice go silent.
Underneath this deep, deep pain is still the little boy trapped in her body with his hands on her.
I am now afraid of men, but this body does not belong to me anymore.
It belongs to him.