My uncle’s prisoner

Who am I-ten years old with a noble, kind heart.
Your predator's obsession.
Who am I but a stalemate allowing your draw.
Your sensual touch tainting me sick.
Who am I but scared frozen in fear.
Your hands slowly lifting the purity within me. Your eyes shaming me as you betray my innocence.
Who am I but a liar if I confess?
Your perversion is only a flaw- my confession my prison.
Who am I to claim no arousal but rather a tingling wave of anguish?
Your victory in my neglect to escape.
Who am I but abused, dirty, a whore?
Your hands warm, your look pleased.
Who am I now- broken.
Your greatest defeat.
Who am I a victim of your abuse.