Can you feel that? That's the feeling of my heart beating in my chest.
That's the sound of a little girl's heart trying desperately to stay whole.
And no, she's not trying to stabilize her breathing, she's fighting for air.

Ask anyone and they'll say that he was the reason she kept living.
They'll create this big narrative, painting him as the savior.
Leaving me in the shadows of the heroic deed this man has done.

I was the one who helped her fight for her life.
not him. that was me.
It was my hands that held hers and it was my voice that begged her to live.

He'll claim that he convinced her to live for it wasn't her time.
Persuasion comes in the form of hazel eyes, a warm face and smooth vocals.
But. so do lies.
and he lied.

Because that little girl was and is me.
we are the same.
while she was hiding from pain under a table, I was there right beside her.
we are the same.

and when voices rose in pitch and fingers pointed blame at us, I held her hand.
holding my breath alongside her while trying to listen in to the argument.

we are the same.
we are the same.