What happens when the lights go out?

This is the story of when I was eight years old.

I'm now 20, and I still remember every second.

The whispers, the touches, the way he lies.

I want to tell it to you, because I think I can never tell it to the people I know.

Forgive me, but my heart is cold. I need help, but no one knows.

Sing to me, the song you wrote.

So that my childhood can be retold.