Torture is something I don’t want to know.
Torture was my norm for too many years, but I close it down, send it away.
I think if I shut my eyes tight enough, then I was mentally, sexually and physically made into trash.
I squeeze my eyes so hard – there is a pain and all I see is red turning into black.
With eyes closed, my veins remember all that was to be tortured.
I want to run away, I want to stay silent, I want not to know my own reality.
Only I cannot as the blood in my veins is on fire.
I know to keep a handle of my mental and physical welfare, I must enter my tortured soul.
I will pause first to say why I do this in public.
I do this because I am just a tiny example of how all the prostituted…
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