Her ****** ears... They were stolen.
Her wrists... Have scars from the ropes that had bound them.
Her legs... They had been spread open from the men that were to selfish even to notice her scream.
At age 9 she accidentally made this her identity.
Her stomach... No one can see it has blood streaked across it, from the knife that took away her pain.

At age 13 her chains kept building.
The secret of what happened still weighed heavy.
The men... They had kept coming.
Not knowing what to do, she turned to **** hoping that the satisfaction would come through.
Her knife keeps producing scars that mark her skin.
This, once again, accidentally became her identity.
Scars kept coming.
She couldn't trust anybody.

At age 14 her chains still weighed heavy, but something has changed.
A person... Sees the hurt that no one else can see.
A person... that has come from a similar past.
A person... Tells her it will be okay.
A person... Tells her not to be afraid.
A person... Tells her she is loved.
A person... vowed to help her find her voice.
However, the girl couldn't believe those words of truth.
- but still.. A person kept on trying.

This is her past, what about her present?

At age 15 her wounds begin healing - the words have broken through.
She has found... A person to finally trust.
She puts down the knife.
She can finally run free.
A life she can live, free  from anxiety.