the closet

Looking in the mirror and what do i see,
A broken shattered child stares back at me,
The innocence has been ripped from my soul,
The warmth in my heart replaced by the cold,
In the closet i hide,
To cry away the pain i feel inside,
The closet is my only friend,
It hides me from him,
My clothes torn my body bruised,
No one would help,
But they all knew,
Escape from this hell is what i need,
At eight years old even that i can see,
My eyes grow heavy as i drift off to sleep,
Praying for some kind of release,
The door opens and its him,
He says he wants to show his love again,
I lay as still as i can be,
Hoping if i dont move he wont see me,
I feel his hand on my arm,
He says come with me unless you want harmed,
He drags me from the floor,
While calling me a stupid whore,
With tears soaking my face,
He puts me in my place,
To the closet i return,
Till he decides he wants another turn,
The closet is no longer my friend,
It gave me up to him.

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