Poem: How Many Do I Need To Count

1, 2, 3 sheep
How many do I need to count?
Before I am able to sleep
Or will I have to recount

Every memory and every night
I was stuck between fight and flight
My eyes are closed
My body froze

My skin fills with goosebumps
As my mind remembers the thumps
Of my own heartbeat in my ears
Anticipating his hand as it nears

Under the covers
My skin shudders
My body frozen
It was me that was chosen

Paraded like a trophy
I wish it wasn’t me
But how can I stop a hand that wants to touch
Even when it gets too much

He was a man in a position of trust
Possessed by a sick kind of lust
For a child’s innocence
But even that didn’t make a difference

To the hands that stole a childhood
And has plagued an adulthood
To the hands that new what they were doing
As it was a childs clothes they were undoing

1, 2, 3 sheep
How many do I need to count?
Before I am able to sleep

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