Age is more than a number

I was thirteen when he covered my mouth and told me to hush.

I was fifteen when he bent me over and told me how grown-up I've gotten. At twenty he talked to me as if we were friends and everything was okay. At twenty-five we bumped into each other at the bar,

He bought me a drink,

I tried to say no but he insisted.

The next morning I woke up in his bed,

Not remembering how I got there.

Twenty-five years old and getting ready to have a baby.

She was three years old when he tried to have contact,

Saying "She's my daughter too".

He took me to court,

He is now able to see her on the weekends and twice during the week. She’s seven and she’s starting to wet the bed again

Google says this isn’t good

Soon after he lost his life in a car accident,

They say the breaks were cut.

At nine she cries over his casket

Tears roll down her cheeks and her eyes never seemed more blue

She doesn’t understand the idea of death but maybe i’m underestimating her She is now thirteen and asks about her father.

I tell her he was a good man,

She must not know she is the product of something evil.

She is wonderful,

She can play three instruments.

She is beautiful,

compared to mine her green eyes shine as we look at the stars.

But one day she'll find out the truth,

the truth that her father was nothing for then a rapist.