TO MY ABUSER, FROM LIZ, A TEEN ALTER, MY POEM!

YOU SICK AND TWISTED PRICK

SO WASTED YOU CANT EVEN LIFT YOUR DICK

WITHOUT THE HELP OF A CHILD WHORE

WHO COULD TURN A TRICK AT AGE 4

DO YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR ASSHOLE

AND WONDER WHO HAS YOUR SOUL

YOU PREY TO THE DEVIL

FIND LIFE IN A BOTTLE

PLACE LITTLE HANDS ON YOUR THROTTLE

SEEKING FOREPLAY FROM A SMALL CHILD

DO THAT THING YOU DO WHEN YOUR WILD

YOU DONT WANT TO KNOW MY THOUGHTS FUCKER

AS I PLAY THE LEECH, YOUR COCK SUCKER

A CHILDS FANTASY WHILE GIVING HEAD

IS SOMETHING CLOSE TO YOU BEING DEAD

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I BIT RIGHT THROUGH

AND TOOK A PIECE RIGHT OFF OF YOU

YOU TAUGHT ME NOT TO FEAR BLOOD COMING OUT

AND IF IT WAS YOURS I PROMISE I WOULDNT SHOUT

YOU’D BE TOO EMBARRASSED TO EVEN TELL

YOU LOST CONTROL OF YOUR BITCH, O WELL

LET ME TIE YOU UP FOR ONCE AND THEN LEAVE YOU FOR DAYS

DRUG YOU UP WITH SOME UNKNOWN CHEMICAL HAZE

DISTORT YOUR MEMORIES WITH HALLUCINATIONS, IS IT A DEAL?

YOUR STORIES SO UNBELIEVABLE THAT NO ONE WILL SEE THEM AS REAL

IN A CHILDS FANTASY SHE’S NO LONGER THE VICTIM ITS TRUE

BUT THATS WHAT YOU DENIED ALL ALONG DIDNT YOU

WRITTEN BY LIZ AGE 16

C2009