Being Nine.

If you could say that I’m not alone
I’d fight the bullet, I’d throw the gun
Times and times and further in between
The sand in my shoes,
The sun on my skin
Look and deplete,
I don’t want you to see
The darkness it brings me
When all else is free.
So many times behind closed doors
I hide the truth, that everyone ignores
The little girls who cry at night,
Scared by what tomorrow may bring –
I was nine, he was ten,
Misunderstood, afraid of his face
Of everyone who didn’t understand
I grew up to be someone grand
I could breathe, and I could win
And only defeated by my own skin
I wish I could stand and see his face –
Look in his eyes, stand from grace,
And in the heart of my strength – I look away – I stand tall.
But it’s behind closed doors, when little girls,
So young and soft,
Break and fight,
Lose and win,
A battle within their own skin