Sitting in a dress... a poem written long ago

[CanYouSeeWhyINamechanged]

I just wanted to share this with you. I wrote this years ago. I am clearing out now and wanted to throw this away, But I also wanted to share it with someone and don't want to share it with anyone irl.

Hope you don't mind.

Sitting, waiting in a dress,
Pick me please, I'll be the best.
Got my condoms, got my lube,
Need to squeeze it from a tube.
"Fuck me harder", "faster, faster"
I made you come. I am the master.
The condom splits, I scream and shout,
Don't say sorry, just get out.
Next please, next please,
Please be quick.
I sit upon his tiny dick.
Up, down. Up, down.
In, out. In out.
I make him scream,
I make him shout.
He wants a dildo up his bum...
That's ok, it'll make him come.

I pack up,
get on a train.
I can't cry now,
I must refrain.

I go home and straight to bed,
Nasty images fill my head.
It's only now that I can cry.
And think of painless ways to die.
The only things that hold me back,
are my family that may crack.

I don't want to cause them pain.

That's the only reason that I refrain.

Oh thats so sad. Are you OK?

I'm ok now, thank you for asking. I have had much counselling since and have managed to come to terms with what I went through, forced into when my parents kicked me out when I was 15 and me running away.

I must admit I was shocked when I found the poem, I had forgotten that I had written it, and shed a few tears, but the pasture where I am now is green and thankfully this is firmly in the past where it belongs.

I just wanted to share it with someone, I have a new life now a million miles away from the sort of life I led before, so I couldn't confide in my RL friends. My closest friend knows briefly about my past, but it's just not something I wanted my friends to see.

Oh. my. god.

Your poor, poor thing.

I am so very very sad that you were forced into that. 15 years olds should be worrying about homework, what's on the telly and which boy they like at school.

I am so sorry a part of your childhood was not right and I wish you all the very very best in your new life.

You did what you had to , to survive, - and the result is that you now have a great life. Well done for surviving and putting it behind you. Now burn the poem and never, ever let your children see anything that would tell them anything about your history - including putting a huge value on you, your needs and your self respect. That way, you can make sure they will never have to go down the same path as you will be setting them a great example.

I wish you all the very best.

Didn't want to read and run - your poem made me cry - it was something I had considered once upon a time when I was in dire financial straits, but I never got as far as doing it.

I am so sorry that you found yourself forced into this situation. And I am glad that you are now in a better place in your life.

What a sad and tough time you've had. Well done for coming to terms with what you went through - many people wouldn't ever manage that.

Good luck with your life now. FWIW I think you're right to 'place' it somewhere, like posting it here - you can't ever totally lose your past as it is part of your make up, the good and the frankly horrific bits. Maybe the finding that poem, the typing it on here and the binning it are all part of a healthy way of accepting the past and moving on.

A friend of mine who had a tough upbringing got into a ritual - every New Years Eve she would write down anything bad that was on her mind or from her past on a piece of paper for each thought and one by one scrunch them up and throw them into the fire. She said it gave her a 'place/time' for confronting these memories and that helped her move on from them. Maybe this can be your version xx take care xx

Thank you for your kind words, I was a little worried about what would be said so had braced myself, also why I didn't post in AIBU

It means a lot that you have understood, I was worried it may have been a bit crude

Thanks

It makes me angry at books and tv shows like Diary of a Callgirl, because they deny the pain that real-life people suffer in these situations.

I was moved too. Didn't know what to say, so thank you for the bit of background and for posting your memoir.

I was hooked on Belle de jour, maybe because even though she apparently had a very different experience of working, I could still relate to her in a way I can never relate to someone else.

I don't know.

I feel very peaceful after destroying the poem. I was worried DP might find it.
But also glad that it is on here in case, if the need should arise, I can search for it and re-read it

Ah, that's an interesting perspective, CYS. Glad you're feeling peaceful now.