Escucha música A Story Like Mine Poem de Halsey 2025 en línea | Musica Soundtracks

Halsey - A Story Like Mine Poem Lyrics

It’s 2009
and I’m 14
and I’m crying.
Not really sure where I am,
but I’m holding the hand
of my best friend Sam
in the waiting room
of a Planned Parenthood.
The air is sterile and clean.
The walls are that
“not gray but green.”
And the lights are so bright
they could burn a hole
through the seam
of my jeans.
My phone is buzzing
in the pocket.
My mom is asking me
if I remembered my keys
’cause she’s closing the door
and she needs to lock it.
But I can’t tell my mom
where I’ve gone.
I can’t tell anyone at all.

You see,
my best friend Sam
was raped by a man
who we knew ’cause he worked
in the after-school program.
He held her down
with her textbooks beside her.
He covered her mouth
and then he came
inside
her.
So now I’m with Sam
at the place with a plan
waiting for the results
of a medical exam.
She’s praying
she doesn’t need an abortion.
She couldn’t afford it.
Her parents would “like totally kill her.”
It’s 2002
and my family just moved.
The only people I know
are my mom’s friend Sue
and her
son.
He’s got a case
of Matchbox cars
and he says that he’ll teach me
to play the guitar
if I just keep quiet.
The stairwell beside
Apartment 1245
will haunt me in my sleep
as long as I’m alive
and I’m too young to know
why it aches in my thighs
but I must lie.
I must lie.

It’s 2012
and I’m dating a guy.
I sleep in his bed and
I just learned to drive.
He’s older than me,
and he drinks whiskey neat.
He’s paying for everything
(this adult thing is not cheap).
We’ve been fighting a lot.
Almost 10 times a week.
But he still wants to have sex
and I just want to sleep.
He says
I can’t say no to him,
that this much
I owe to him.
He buys my dinners,
so I need to blow him.
He’s taken to forcing me
down on my knees.
I’m confused
’cause he’s hurting me
while he says “please.”
And he’s “only a man”
and these things he “just needs.”
He’s my boyfriend
so why am I filled with unease?
It’s 2017
and I live like a queen.
And I’ve followed damn near
every one of my dreams.
I’m invincible!
and I’m so fucking naive.
I believe I’m protected
’cause I live on a screen.
Nobody would DARE
act that way around me.
I have earned my protection,
eternally clean.
Till a man who I trust
gets his hands
in my pants.
But I don’t want none of that?
I just wanted to dance?
I wake up the next morning
like I’m in a trance.
And there’s blood.
My blood.

Is that my blood?

Hold on a minute…
You see
I’ve worked every day
since I was 18.
I’ve toured everywhere
from Japan
to Mar-a-Lago,
I even went onstage
that night
in Chicago
when I was having a miscarriage.
I pied the piper!
I put on a diaper!
And sang out my spleen
to a roomful of teens.
What do you mean
this
happened
to
me?
(You can’t put your hands on me?
You don’t know what my body has been through.
I’m supposed to be
Safe
Now.
I’ve “earned it.”)

The year is 2018
and I’ve realized
that nobody is safe
as long as she is alive
and every friend that I know
has a
story
like
mine.

(And the world tells us
that we should take it
as a compliment.)

But heroes like Ashley
and Simone and
Gabby,
McKayla and Gaga,
Rosario,
Ali.
Remind me
this is the beginning,
it’s not the finale.
And that’s why we are here,
and that’s why we rally.

It’s about Olympians
and a medical resident.
And not one
fucking
word
from the man
who is president.
It’s about closed doors
secrets
and legs
in stilettos,
from Hollywood Hills
to the projects
and ghettos.

When babies are ripped
from the arms of teen mothers,
and child brides globally
cry under covers,
who don’t have a voice
on the magazine covers
and you can’t walk anywhere
if your legs aren’t covered,
they tell us
“take cover.”
But we are not
free
until all of us are
free.
So love your neighbor.
Please treat her kindly.
Ask her her story,
then shut up
and listen.
Black
Asian
poor
wealthy
Trans
Cis
Muslim
Christian
Listen.

LISTEN.

And then yell
at the top of your lungs.
Be a voice
for all those
who have prisoner tongues,
for the people
who had to grow up
way too young,
there is work to be done,
there are songs to be sung,
Lord knows there’s a
war
to be
won.