Nineteenth day of the ninth month, born
Why would anyone keep track of how far I'd gone?
From little booties to size seven shoes
From being bare all around to being loose.
The adults thinking, when you were five
How cute it is that you have someone you like
Calling the boy beside you your boyfriend
Just because you were happy holding his hand.
Your very own phone at the age of twelve
Using it on a schoolnight, smiling to yourself
"You better not have a boyfriend", warns daddy
His face and his tone scaring you off to sleep.
Fifteen, alone with a boy at a park
Ignoring all the texts asking where you are
Phone snatched away, a hard slap to your face
Daddy's anger, just a little taste.
Few months before twenty, solitary clinic trips
The thought of parents' faces meant she wasn't for keeps
Built up the lies so intricately only for them to shatter
At the arrival of the women's hospital's letter.
First, yelling for mommy from the bathroom
Second, legs spread, back against the wood
Third, screams echoing the hospital at 5 in the morning
Blood, not as young as the songs would sing.
