Cliche My first love was a cliche. He was an older boy who I was head over heals for and he just didn't feel the same. I was 12. We were perfectly imperfect Cliche number two. We didn't live happily ever after. I guess that's cliche number three. Conveniently enough with my shitty luck I was sexually assaulted in the midst of trying to pick myself up off of the ground of the devastation of a first heart break. I always try to joke about it. Cliche number 4 I sometimes act like the trigger warnings on tumblr pages or a rape sene in a movie doesn't apply to me That I'm over it... Cliche number five Sometimes I think about cutting up and down rather than side to side Cliche number six One time I tried it. But I didn't cut deep enough. So I just popped a handful of pills I bought off a friend. Cliche number seven. When I was offered a cigarette at the age of 12 almost 13 I took it. Didn't even know how to light it. I puffed away I almost literally coughed up a lung and the nicotine buzz made my head warm It's not a metaphor I like cigarettes. Cliche number eight. A week after my 13th birthday 2 weeks after the assault 3 months after I got my heart broken for the first time A boy with crystal blue eyes called me beautiful and asked me to show him my boobs. I did. Cliche number nine. When my parents found out I had to go to court. I had no choice. The man who assaulted me was my uncle. Cliche number ten He was my uncle cliche number ten he was like a big brother Cliche number ten he wasn't on his medication when it happened. Cliche number ten My own grandmother looked me in the eyes and defended him Cliche number ten Why didn't he just take his fucking medication. Cliche number ten I had no choice. Cliche number 10 The nicotine buzz became an addiction... But the buzz from weed numbs so much better. Cliche number 10 I sometimes have thoughts of cutting up and down rather than side to side. One time I tried it. I couldn't even succeed at destroying myself. I am broken. They ripped my innocents off at such a young age just like they did my pants. I was objectified as just another girl in my family to cry rape Because my family tree is more like a rape vine It started with my great grand father and my great aunts then skipped a generation and grabbed ahold of my uncle and he got me. But we cover it up with moonshine and dip cans passed around in the Chinese gift exchange at Christmas every year while we avoid their names in conversations. when I'm with my grandmother and she mentions she has a son my stomach still twists It's been four years and I sometimes still have thoughts of cutting up and down and not side to side I might try it again. I gave up the nicotine buzz and substituted it for nightly bong hits to help me sleep nightmare free And I am a fucking cliche.