Thanks to my innocence you so deftly pocketed, I took your hand and followed you into dark rooms time after time.
As a result of my home training, I respected my elders and did exactly as you asked, shedding my 3T panties.
By reason of naïveté, it took years for shame to bruise where the trauma existed.
Without exception I kept your secret twisted in my heart until I noticed how fragile my own daughter was at age three.
And in that instant blood turned into ink.
Considering the brokenness of my own body as a little girl, I was compelled to write your wrongs.
The wounds have festered and seeped. They have healed. And the ink has dried.