I think I’m born to be a loser.
I think I’m born to be a bitch.
And don’t think I’ll cry because of you, sir!
My wound only needs a little stitch.

I don’t care about you raping me,
I don’t care if it’s true or not.
I don’t know who I’m supposed to be...
-or perhaps I only forgot.

I was one of those girls who were good,
One of those the future holds dear,
But unlike any other girls in the hood
My life and soul were colored with fear.

Each day at school was like hell
And for fear I hid in the shadows,
Locked up my soul in a prison cell,
Hiding away from my lows.

Perhaps it wasn’t the others,
Perhaps it wasn’t just me,
Perhaps not the fault of my mother’s,
Perhaps not my dad’s ‘cause you see,

In the beginning I made a wrong choice,
Picked a bad road to walk.
I didn’t listen to my inner voice,
Didn’t notice it’s talk.

“He’s a bad fellow, this guy,
He’s only gonna break your heart.
He’s gonna leave you here to cry,
Come on girl, try to be smart.”

But I didn’t listen to this voice of mine
And soon the damage was done.
I lost touch with the divine
And hope shut my light that once shone.

But he didn’t just break my heart
And now I feel like a whore.
He took advantage of another body part
And somehow I keep shouting for more...

It doesn’t matter if it’s love or if it’s sex,
Each way I’ll be hurt.
I think it’s a curse or a hex
‘cause somehow I’m stuck in the dirt.

I tried to pull away from the shadows,
I tried to draw closer to the light,
But each time I fell and each time I rose
I realized that the light was too bright

Perhaps I hoped for to much
When the next love came to my soul,
‘cause in the end I hoped for another’s touch,
Another one to make me whole

Along came others and along came lust
And along came sex and all that stuff,
But I never forgot my broken trust
When you locked me to my bed with a handcuff.

A reliving nightmare each day I wake
And each night I sleep is the same.
My sex life since then was only a fake
And I hid the truth under a face full of shame.

Perhaps it doesn’t matter at all,
At least not because of me,
Perhaps my summer was only a fall,
Perhaps not the light I thought it’d be.

But my heart aches for the others
Who’s victims became of your crime,
Though I really don’t know if it bothers
To write you a poem in rhyme.

I want you to share my guilt
And say sorry to all those men
Who’s confidence I’ve both broken and built,
And you mine as well, since then.

I hope I’ll let go of the pain
And that this poem be the last one to you,
So I can find a love, not to lose, but to gain,
Find a love that is finally true.