What They Did

Whenever I see you in the street,
The memories in my head aren’t sweet.
I feel an unfriendly touch,
It happened way too much.
He was the first,
And I don’t know who was the worst.
I hate to think of the word molesting,
It really keeps my friends guessing.
No one knows,
None of the pain I feel shows.
Mood swings happen often,
And in that time, my voice usually will soften.
I hate to give them so much control,
Never again will I feel whole.
My peers all laugh and call me a whore,
Because of what they made me do behind a closed door.
The memories stay in my head,
I was lucky not to be raped in that bed.
You’ll never know what is in my past,
Because what they did didn’t go by fast.
I hate to tell anyone,
I’m afraid everyone will start making fun.
I can’t open up to you,
No matter how bad I want you to know the truth.
The way I let guys treat me,
It isn’t me, I want to be free.
The things they’ve done,
Made them have too much fun.
My breathing gets heavy,
When I see his Chevy.
I start to panic,
I feel like I’m drowning in the Atlantic,
I run away,
And I know I’ll never fully be okay.
I have to feel so much pain,
But I don’t want to complain.