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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at SFA chapter.

Below is a spoken word piece that I wrote last semester for an event. Sadly, with everything that has happened, I never got to share it with its intended audience. Fortunately, I now have you all to share it with.

This Little Girl’s Prayer

This little girl’s prayer was consistent,

never changing.

She would squeeze her eyes shut and

fold her hands so tightly together that her

small, chubby fingers would turn red.

 

Red. Just like the flush that appeared

on her cheeks. These cheeks,

drenched in

hot,

feverish

tears.

 

Tears. These tears would

drip

and

fall,

drip

and

fall

endlessly like rain droplets

rushing down from a blue sky.

These tears, so abundant,

she could’ve formed her own personal ocean.

 

Ocean. An ocean of emotions waved through

her mind as she sat up in her bed

every night silently

praying,

begging

to Him for the thoughts to stop.

 

Stop. Oh how badly she wanted them to stop!

Those thoughts, the ones that

had been keeping her awake at night,

keeping her mind racing like

a race car speeding along a track.

Around and around and around

they went, you could’ve sworn

her name was Merry the way

those thoughts went

around

and

around.

 

These thoughts. So many twisted

up words and phrases that

little girls like her

should’ve never conjured up

on her own. Such nasty, ugly,

terrible thoughts to think

about one’s self.

 

God, why can’t I be beautiful?

                               Why do I have to look the way that I do?

                                                                                     Why am I the way that I am?

These are the questions this little girl

would ask God in between her

little girl sobs. Her little girl

lungs would reach out,

gasping for air as

her little girl heart would

tighten and grow weaker,

feeling as if it’s

blood was being wrung

dry by some

wicked,

evil hand.

 

This hand…was it insecurities?

Was it comparison?

Maybe it was

judgement,

assumption,

anxiety?

Or maybe it was

fear,

self-loathing,

sabotage,

and…and then maybe it

was just simply the

sadness of it all.

 

Please Lord, change me!

Make me somebody more interesting!

Make me more intelligent, more desirable!

God please I am too weak!

I want to be stronger.

I need to be stronger.

God please I am tired of crying!

I am tired of crying.

I am tired of crying.

Oh my God how I am so tired of crying and being weak and not loving myself!

 

That was this little girl’s prayer.

It was spoken far too many

nights then she’d like to admit.

 

However, this little girl’s prayer isn’t the same anymore.

It isn’t as consistent and it’s forever changing.

 

There aren’t as many tears or

as much begging and pleading.

This little girl’s prayer has

formed into this young woman’s

promise.

 

A promise to God that she can do better,

that she will do better.

She now recognizes that this journey is

treacherous

and

hard

and

frustrating

and sometimes seemingly impossible.

 

This young woman promises to

God that she won’t let Him

down, she won’t let her

loved ones down, ever again.

 

A promise to Him that she

will continue to fight against

all odds because ain’t that

what life’s all about?

 

Is life not a never-ending fight

for what you want?

for what you need?

Is it not a young woman’s promise to God?

Is it not a little girl’s prayer?

A Creative Writing major who just wants to read, write, and live.
Hello Everyone! My name is Laura Restrepo and I go to SFA. I plan to major in psychology so I can use my degree to help others and make this world a better place. I am a writer for Her Campus. I love to read anything and everything whether its books, magazines, blogs, fan-fiction, journals, etc. I enjoy all types of music; I am open to anything. I am also a huge nerd for Star Wars, Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings/Hobbit series. In conclusion, the perfect day for me consists of these things with coffee and cold weather.