Yeah…
I used to call it “just life,” now I call it what it was,
Pain wrapped in silence, fear dressed up as love.
I told myself I was strong, I was fine, I was okay,
But trauma don’t vanish just ‘cause you look the other way.
I minimized scars just to make it make sense,
Told myself “it wasn’t that bad,” built a false defense.
But your body remembers what your mind tries to erase,
Every flinch, every panic, every tighten in your face.
I’m talking to you, yeah, the girl who survived,
Who learned how to breathe while feeling dead inside.
Who laughed in public, but cried in the dark,
Asking God why your story had to start so hard.
Coming to terms means admitting the truth,
That what they did to you wasn’t “discipline” or “youth.”
It was control, it was fear, it was crossing the line,
And you were a child, you were never to blame.
I wrestle with memories, they hit like waves,
Some days I’m okay, some days I’m not brave.
Some days I feel angry, some days I feel numb,
Some days I still wish the past would undo what’s done.
I hate that I still hear their voices in my head,
Telling me I’m too much, better off dead.
But I’m learning those lies ain’t the truth I live in,
They’re echoes of broken people, not the worth I was given.
I’m learning to grieve the childhood I lost,
The safety, the innocence, the invisible cost.
Grieving the girl who should’ve felt safe in her bed,
Not counting footsteps, not fearing what’s said.
Coming to terms means letting myself feel,
Not just survive, but actually heal.
Letting the tears fall, letting the anger speak,
Letting myself be soft without calling it weak.
God saw it all when nobody did,
He held my heart when I was just a kid.
When I thought I was abandoned, thrown to the storm,
He was shaping my soul in a different form.
So yeah, I’m still breaking, but I’m breaking open,
Not into pieces, but into hope and.
Into truth, into light, into finally saying:
“What happened to me was real… and I’m still standing.”
I’m not what they did.
I’m not what they said.
I’m not the fear they planted inside my head.
I’m the survivor.
I’m the daughter of grace.
I’m the proof you can rise from a shattered place.
trixses
