She’s been touched and not by the hands of God,
She changed, felt shame and nobody saw
The demons unleashed behind closed doors.
And still, under His eye, in the house of the Lord

She got crept up on and felt up on,
Girl child with a boy twice her age, that’s wrong.
Creep underneath the pews where they sing them songs,
Basement staircase where he debased they psalms.

She couldn’t face her moms. Thought cuz she played along
It was her that was wrong, she held the guild like a bomb.
Only a matter of time before it got to her spine
Rounded her shoulders and infected her mind

So many “me oh my”s and “why oh why”s, she set fires
An S.O.S. in every tear she cried and meanwhile
Her screams fell silent, the pain was compiling,
Still had to go to church Sunday morning suffering and smiling./

She turned to food when she need to be soothed,
Sweet tooth hollowed out the root, a deep groove
What was left, a dark tomb and a changed mood
Young brain, broken frame before the blossom’s in bloom

And that’s not even the half, More pain in the aftermath
The sacrifice of the calf caught ablaze in the backdraft.
And it turns out the pastor knew, so what’d the bastard do?
Nothing! Lead Sunday school in the afternoons and she starts to brood like,

“Fuck all of y'all and fuck God too!”
Rage flames in her veins but remains covered up like the dark moon
Cuz her mama said, “You can’t keep crying in your room,
Just pick up the rug, grab the dust broom and keep moving.”

Suppressed, compressed, no rest, depression.
Teflon pressed on, kevlar, the vest’s on
Her soul’s armored, heavy plated, the gold’s tarnished
She asked her father, “Why’d you betray your sole honor?”//

Protector? Protect her? Nah that’s all varnish.
Now she barely hug her papa when she’s headed off the college
And she’s angry at her mama, that’s the consequence of trauma
On the whole tribe, now let me rewind this whole saga

Don’t wanna miss shit, gotta tell her whole story.
The internal battlegrounds are the ones that’s most gory,
She worried. She poked and prodded herself
She ate to gain weight so she could hide in herself.

She lost pride in herself, apologized for herself.
Thank God she chose to write what she felt
But she couldn’t right it herself, the anxiety didn’t help
It took time but she’ll find she owns every single part of herself

Resenting being a target, she turned into a marksman.
Reaped the harvest of a rotten seed planted too often.
These devils breed in the silence and darkness
While little girls are taught to lean into their softness.///

But instead, her edge sharpened.
Hawk eye, night vision on the thieves and the vultures.
Mean-mugging so they think twice before they approach her
Older and wiser she saw it’s ingrained in the culture.

From the Wild Wild West to the Hip-Hop heads,
Brutal stories glorified in the eyes of men.
She idolized her big brothers, tried to get like them
But just like them, it’s performative, it’s all pretend.

She loves jazz and the blues and that boom boom bap
But even the most “conscious” was misogynist in they raps.
She was scared to chase her dreams, she almost fell back
Tho she’s an artist so she carved herself a place on the map.

A well springs forth. Telling her own story is the healing.
Finding the chords on the keyboard to say what she is feeling.
She speaks for women and femmes found dead and unreported.
She is the picture of strength in a world meant to distort it.////

Warrior Spirit.