At age four, she knew too much
With her ear to the door, she listens and learns
At age six, her door locked and earbuds in,
She numbs herself in music.
At age eight, with scissors in her hands,
She chops off her hair to punish her mistakes.
At age ten, she sits silently in the therapist's chair
Her dead eyes dry, and mouth spewing lies.
At age twelve, she hides in society's standards, and keeps it all inside.
So no one knows how she rewards herself.
At age fourteen, she stopped caring.
With cuts visible, and her lack of sleep.
She ignores everyone's criticism.
At age sixteen, a pen in her hand, she writes her good byes.
She sings her last verse as she steps onto the stool.
She peers through the circle, her vision blurred,
And steps into oblivion...
