Her

I’ve done some things that I’m not quite proud of
And I’ve done some things that have brought me shame.

I’ve been someone who I never should have been
And she hurt me in ways I could never explain.

I keep my eyes down so you don’t see the truth;
I don’t want you to know who I was.

I don’t want you to see her
In the lies, and the trash, and the mud.

Her clothing too tight, and a slight bit torn-
Her thoughts too heavy, and a slight bit like porn.

Her mouth hanging open, and her fist clenched in rage-
Her breaths all but shortened, and her innocence in chains.

She tore me apart:
Made me who I am today…

I’m not afraid of who I am:

Just of whom I’ve been…

And that I might be her again.