this...isn't about me, by the way.

this...isn't about me, by the way.

She lays on the ground all alone, she's only seventeen

Taking in a big puff on destruction, blowing out all her hopes & dreams.

Her high put too much red in her eyes to see what's right in front of her,

A bridge built by God to push past all the hurt.

With every silent heartbeat comes a secret memory of what he did to her.

That night when it was just her & uncle forcing her to lift her skirt

And - - - since then, she's not been able to hear anything but the screams from the inside of her soul

Turning silent, her heart beating quieter, and her body getting cold.

Everytime she blinks her eyes, she sees him

& those memories of getting a what daddy called a "beatin'"

And with every lash on her back, she screamed.

 ...

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 I can still feel his handprint indented on my cheek

it happened about a decade ago, yet it feels like last week.

there's a hatred towards me risiding somewhere in his heart

close in blood, yet miles apart.

I try to hate him because of the pain

but htere's a sprinkle of love for him flowing in my veins.

bad memories of him are behind each scar on my wrist

because the hatred, love, and confusion coexist.

I felt like he tore my heart & destroyed my soul

and at that moment my 98.6 degree body went cold