The Phases

Ten years old, loud as can be
I wanted someone to notice me
Goofy faces, ribbons and bows
But hiding the bruises so no one would know

Thirteen years old, quiet and reserved
Believing what happened was what I deserved
Looking for monsters under my bed
When all along they were in my head

Sixteen years old, scared and alone
Dad died, and I had no home
Late nights I would stay up and cry
With a blade to my wrist, wanting to die

Twenty three years old, Still holding on strong
I stayed faithful when things went wrong
Through the hurt and through the lies
I have done the impossible, I have survived