The birth of Connor (Remastered)

She learned too young to lock the door, To count the steps across the floor, To read the silence in the room, Like thunder hiding in the blue. She thought her body was a trap, A piece of meat, a welcome mat, A pretty thing boys learned to break, As if her skin was theirs to take. And every hand that crossed a line, Took another spark, another shine, Left her standing in the dark, With a borrowed breath and a shattered heart. But I am not your flesh, I am not your prize, I am not the fear you left behind my eyes. I am not the girl you bent until she cracked, I am not the shadow crawling back. You took the light, But you never took the flame. You left me broken, But you never got my name. I was running, I was fighting, I was dying to survive, Now hear me screaming — I am still alive. There’s a shell that walks when the soul goes numb, A mouth that smiles, but the words won’t come, A body breathing in the daylight, While the mind keeps bleeding every night. Fight in the hallway, flight in the car, Praying to God just to get that far, Freezing still so the storm moves past, Learning which kind of fear might last. And boys grow up on poisoned lies, That love means power, hands, and thighs, That girls are soft and made to claim, Then act surprised when we carry shame. But shame was never mine to hold, That sickness lived inside his bones, He was the weak one dressed as strong, I was the one who made it out. You called it love while you stole my breath. You called it need while you dealt out death. You fed on kindness, sweet and young, Then blamed the girl for what you’d done. COWARD COWARD Coward in a man’s skin. You only felt strong When someone smaller let you in. But I came back to my own hands, Back to my voice, back to my land, Back to the mirror, back to my core, not the woman I was before. learned how to breathe again, How to love my skin again, How to stand without apology, How to call this body home to me. No more running from the past, No more shrinking when I laugh, No more asking if I’m clean, No more living in his dirty dream. I am not your flesh, I am not your prize, I am not the fear you left behind my eyes. I am not the girl you bent until she cracked, I am the storm that never turned back. You took the light, But I became the flame. You left me wounded, But I rose up through the pain. I was crawling, I was bleeding, I was barely breathing then, Now I’m standing — And I will NEVER break again. I am stronger than the silence, Stronger than the scars, Stronger than the hands That tried to tell me who I was. I’m stronger than his hunger, Stronger than his lies, Stronger than the coward Who only hunted light. I’m not just surviving, I am coming back alive. I’m not just stronger — I’m stronger than he ever was. I’ll never look back. I’ll never go numb. I own my body. I own what I become. And every girl he tried to bury Will rise up from the dust. (coward) WE are not his victims. (coward) WE are thunder. (coward) WE are justice. (coward) WE are us.