I stood tall the first day I could,
At 9 months old learning as I should.
The first time I fell I was young and naive,
I felt like it served to teach me how to grieve.
When I first stood back up I had learnt so I thought,
Soon to discover I knew nothing of the sort.
Twice fallen down, oops that one hurt too!,
I felt so alone not knowing what to do.
Once more I stood up I'm sure everyone trips,
But I still had that taste of tear salt on my lips.
Third time's a charm or so people say,
When I fell once again my heart started to decay.
To get back on up with my heart three times cracked, looking back now? I should have just packed.
When the fourth time arrived I believed my heart to be seasoned,
"It can't be helped" I so desperately reasoned.
Standing again I felt like I'd shrunk,
I was missing something... A part of my spunk.
You'd think after five times "girl you're a mess",
Yet again I was dropped left both crying and depressed.
Shaky at the knees I stood up once again,
By this time I was feeling something hard to explain.
Fall number six and you'd swear I was shattered,
I fought so damn hard left feeling bruised and battered.
To stand up another time was like relearning to walk,
It took so f****** long and I struggled to talk.
The seventh fall destroyed my heart and my soul,
I couldn't see any chance of once more being whole.
I'm still trying to stand right now before you,
It's hard to accept that not everyone will adore you.
I won't fall again to myself I have sworn,
That never again over them shall I mourne.
Fall for an eighth? Because they send 'sup?'
No. Seven times fall, only eight I'll get up.