Girl Like Me


I raise my voice because I once kept secrets. 
I write for the little girls, the teen girls who keep secrets too
And for the grown who have the young girl inside of her
This is for the one who promised she would never tell a soul
About the hands that caressed her without permission 
The lips that touched her without her wishing 
The man that penetrated her when she was only a girl 
not yet a woman 
I raise my voice because I was once afraid
Of the shame, 
And Embarrassment,  
I write for the mothers who don't know...
So that they may listen more closely
Observe more intently, 
And love more profoundly
I blow a kiss to the trauma and what it cost 
I blow a kiss because I want to 
Because the trauma does not define me
Because I have much to give
I raise my voice because I was once weak, but now I am strong. 
But not by my own accord
By the one who caught my tears, 
Who comforted me
I write because it is possible to be free
Because no forbidden touch could leave a mark so dark as to overshadow my purpose 
I write to tell you, what's past can't defeat you, it can only reside within if you allow it to 
I raise my voice for the perpetrators
Who think they will go unseen 
I forgive you, but your gross reflection will come to light
Because as my voice is raised, your ego will drown
The way I was silenced will be the way you will be shut down
Voices high. 
Despair is the outcome of what you've done
Child prostitutes, heroine, cocaine, suicide, obesity, cutting, prison, death, it's all because of you. 
Hate, war in homes, war in schools, lost souls, low self-esteem, that's you too. 
I raise my voice because I forgive my father who molested me, the nameless 22 year old who raped me when I was 15, and the boy I liked who took advantage of me when I was 18
the objectification of my body 
his temporary pleasure
Did they not know what was temporal for them would last forever?
Warriors soul 
Let my voice roar
against the demons who thought they could gain control
Over my voice, soul, and destiny
Let the devil know, The Lord bought me at a high price 
Sold out to Jesus 
Though I was robbed from an innocent trust, an innocent relationship,an  innocent childhood
He redeemed me
Though I learned to survive, 
escape, protect rather than play
He restored me
Knowing much before I had the chance to ask questions. 
Yet questions was all I had. 
I remember being 13. Why me? 
As I searched for answers, a voice came 
It wasn't my own, 
What I heard was a call. 
A connection so intimate,
Love for a child so desperate
The voice of my life-giver
My testimony is a story to be told
A voice to be heard
He showed me it would serve somebody 
Many bodies, 
Through my written words and the cracks in my speech 
Girls like me will listen 
Hope: inherited
As my weakness turns into courage, 
words that are written will never be forgotten 
And she will discover I raise my voice for her. So that she may find her own. 


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