Every part of me feels ashamed,
I mustn't forget that I am to blame.
The flash backs come and then they go,
It wouldn't have happened if I'd have said no.
My body's constantly covered in filth,
Years of washing haven't rid me of the guilt.
If people knew, they would think I was dirty,
They would say I was being over-flirty.
Did I want it to happen?
Was I wrong in the head?
These questions make me wish I was dead.