I share my art, I think I need to share my words (I am not big on discussing my emotions)
because he would hit harder when I showed emotion, to cry was a crime,
10 Yrs. a slave.
You are the number one slave but no matter; slaves are not to give birth.
Unlike the local ejaculate bucket whose vaginal entry requires wearing of a union standard safety harness.
My master, whom took every opportunity to announce him self as my keeper, his reason, well I was much too important to let be distracted with such ‘things’ as babies!
Crystal was much more his taste for the mother, the latest to add another to his brood of traumatised spawn.
Don’t mistake my sentiment, when it was me I wanted it killed.
I didn’t breed with u, for I knew u r no father, at least not to anything I could love.
My mind is a messy child’s room typically all the dolls set up in sexual possess, as my 6-year self-talks to the many spirits around her.
I am looking in on me from the window,
A cute little girl I lay on the floor sulking frantically.
She is searching for the parents who left her at the mall.
Or was it gas station?
In a thick fog of mind altering substances, I cry out to them with all my little heart
but they will never answer
I fear I will never stop searching.
I fear for good reason that I have never been given love, so I find abuse comfortable like worn in slippers. Makes sense abused child, abused women in limbo….
Help me, mummy, daddy please I’m scared, please
My pain so strong my chest is constricted, mouth watery, vomit.
Why, did you hate me after I was raped your visible disgusted for me as if I was ‘doing this to hurt you,’
I was only 10, fuck you!!!! Enjoy the warm weather when your rotting in hell with my rapist,
mother…. oh wait no guardian… no no ahh Carer haha…
You’re making a scene again Jai,
ssssh that never happened, I hate it when you tell such awful lies always being so dramatic!
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