Damaged goods

I have a label.
The label will stick with me for life.
And remain deep within.
The label is damaged goods.
I'm so messed up after you did what you did.
I hate to be alone near any man.
I always look over my shoulder.
I cut my arms to ribbons.
I am now known as damaged goods.

On the day you raped me.
You broke me.
You left me frightened and scared.
But worst of all you left me damaged.
Like damaged goods.
Only I cant be mended.

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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