By Michelle Kitchen
Fiendish flesh plunders
my naiveté. My scream
is throttled by the point
of steel pressed
against my neck.
Destruction of innocence
Blinded by verdant
flannel, the brutish
feeling arises with
vast insertion.
Destruction of innocence
Hands held down
I sense the grin that
evidently evades his face.
Destruction of innocence
Too frightened
to move, I lie back as
the deflower plight takes
the greenness of life.
Destruction of innocence
His foulness stench of
satisfaction fills
the ill lewd night air.
Destruction of innocence
Despised by his touch,
by the wretchedness
ravage that has shattered
my childness, I watch him
run away with,
destruction of innocence.
To furious to cry, to scared
to tell, I grab my tattered
clothing and walk away
with nothing more then
destruction of innocence.