Yes.
It happened.
Lucky you,
to steal a piece of
who I was
when I was seven.
The girl in daddy's pigtails
who would skip
over to your house
and leave
with sagging shoulders
and unseen scratch marks
from your claws.
That little innocence
melted
with the burning flame
of your adult lust.
But I am the wick.
And though parts of me
drip away or
float wispy tentacles toward the sky--
I remain.
Yes,
it happened.
But I win.
Wow this is so powerful and I can feel the emotion. I can relate to this in my own personal way and it gives me a feeling a strength because of your conclusion. You win(: i love the flame and wick metaphors, it gives the story a great image. You're an amazing writer!
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