#30daysofendsexualharassment #daythirteen
You call me a slut,
Even after sexual fists and sloths,
Why can’t you ask, what makes me one?
You said the intensity of my promiscuity is beyond words,
You need to hear my story,
Baleful experiences loaded in lorries.
When I was 12, he showed me love,
He offered me gifts and tenderly cared,
That fateful day, he despoiled me.
I realized, his lethal love covered with mist just seemed so real.
His flagrant affections was just a disguise,
To get my back down to the bed.
My body was being treated like a piece of shit.
He even threatened to kill ,
Peradventure, I tell anybody.
He turned me to his sex machine,
His everyday tonic, I couldn’t imagine.
He spoilt the ship for ha’parth of tar.
His wanton cruelty ruined life.
After many years of doomy experience from my uncle.
This has been a stigma in my life ever since,
Until I met the love of my life.
He was a perfect gentle guy as I presumed,
Heaven on earth he promised,
Have found a saviour, I concluded.
My odious story I shared,
Thinking he could be of help,
He pitied and flooded with care,
Unknowingly they were all guile,
To fell and lost in his ruinous affection.
That lovely day, I went visiting,
The aftermath was my undies were down to my foot.
That was the stroll that broke the camel’s back.
How could this happened? I asked myself.
I was drugged.
All he could altered was “it was the devil”.
Then I realized, my heart had been tossed to and fro like blind coins.
My body has been wounded.
I have been deceived and tainted.
My hope was dashed.
All these made me the beast I am
I tried to let go and opt out from my past,
But all are to no avail.
Now, you say am lose and fancy free,
This is the making of the beast.
Lymar's memoir 