played out faerie tales

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
there's mild sex, violence, and cussing in this piece here. as many of you, my loyal readers, know everything i write is true. this is a little more true than usual. i'm uploading directly, instead of sending it to my friends first. enjoy, and remember, it gets better.

Submitted: January 05, 2012

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Submitted: January 05, 2012



Do you remember when you'd sit in your room for endless hours,

planning your wedding and writing your crushes last name on your diary?


I don't.


Do you remember going to kindergarten and playing house,

and arguing over who got to be the baby?


I don't.


Remember having friends over and playing outside,

and being spoiled by your grandparents?


I don't.


I never got a chance to do any of these things.


From the age of six I had to either fight or get the shit beaten out of me.

At ten I wanted to grow up too fast and lost what was left of my innocents.


My ass was owned by every gang banger in my neighborhood,

and I didn't care,

I was far from innocent,

but I was still naive.


At the time i had no idea what I was doing,

and it never mattered to me,

all I knew was it was taking the memories of what he did to me away.


At thirteen i got into drugs,

when I found the one that made me go numb I stuck to it.


For a year and a half I let my addiction control what I did,

who I did,

and what I let them do to me.


I lost so much time,

I still don't remember a lot of those seventeen months,

I can only guess from the pieces I have.


At fourteen i becan expirimenting with my sexuallity,

and he found out.


He repeated history,

only this time there was no way I'd forget it.


Of course she was of no help.


My own girlfriend,


she only added to the scars.


I never let her know that she raped me.


She still has no idea I didn't want that night to happen.


My parents don't know any of this,

and they never will.


They already thing I'm a failure,

I couldn't add discusting whore to that as well.


So, do you remember daydreaming about finding your prince charming,

with a white horse and shining armor?


I don't.


But oddly enough, I was still rescued from my hell.


But  he is no prince charming,

he has no sword,

no stallion,

no armor.


Instead he is quiet and lustful,

armed only with a devilish smile,

a beautiful heart,

and scars of his own.


So while you were dreaming of decurning mental love affairs,

taken over by your knight who's shining,

and hoping he'd come out of hiding,

I was ripped away from my childhood,

and dropped into the lake of fire.


Now i've risen from the dead,

ready to fight for what i've gained.

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