no one knows how deep our scars run and sometimes not even we do until someone comes and traces the marks and to our horror, the wounds open up again too soon
far sooner than we were prepared to staunch the flow of not just blood, but memories and shame the very ones that kept us scarred and broken, long after we’ve forgotten their names
but for your words and the sound of your voice, this time something was different for together with the stigma and the blame that may have accompanied them, there, too, was redemption
an acceptance that none of it was my fault or my own doing, nothing i deserved or asked for. and i can finally move on because you saw something i long forgot, that i am worthy and i am worth fighting for.
i ran errands yesterday – the post office and then a stop at the grocery store and as i stood in line at the checkout stand, i found myself looking around at first the entrances and the exits before realizing there’s really only one door besides the one in the back meant only for the employees of the store and then i thought if it should happen while i’m standing in line, will i even have a chance? will he pick me because of my color or will they simply call it happenstance? and then i wondered, why is the line so slow for i need to rush home.
can the line move any faster? i really need to go.
oh, dear heart, don’t be a traitor for i need you to be strong the next time he comes around but only until he says the words that always disarm me and it won’t take long before he leaves me breathless, unravelled, undone.
you checked in on me when you didn’t have to you were honestly the last person i thought would call but you did and for that i am grateful for your words mean more to me than all the likes on my social media wall.
for you took the time to make sure i was okay even if it was already late in your day after you had to put out fires at work and at home you took the time to remind me i’m not alone
that even in this crazy world we find ourselves in right now where there’s too much hatred and color wars i can still count on you to be there for me no matter where you are, no matter how far.
i need a break from all the madness, just a short respite with you the sight of your smiling face, the feel of your embrace, how they have the power to undo the sadness that often hits me when the days are long and hard and the loneliness that engulfs me when i find myself constantly on guard from the demons circling, searching for every vulnerability they can find, until the sound of your voice sends them fleeing into the night.
tell me again why i love you for your voice has turned into venom in my veins, pulling me away from things that matter, each word you utter now a chain binding me to uncertainty, my own voice drowned. so tell me again why i love you. tell me before i shut down.
we are not safe and that is the god awful truth for we’re treated as nothing more than chattel most times under the veneer of civility hiding lessons learned from youth such that you can hit a woman because she must have done something to deserve it and even if she didn’t, you can still hurt her because you’ve seen everyone do it. for she’s something to look at. she’s something to adore. she’s some thing you can tuck away in a corner when you feel like it. she’s a thing to use and nothing more. maybe sometimes she’ll give her consent to do to her as you please with set boundaries you may both agree upon and a simple word to put her back at ease. but such is not the case for most women out there and how I wish this were not true.
we were never safe then and more so now. is there a way to change all this, starting with me and you?
after everything is said and done, we’re alone so we might as well accept the imperfect versions of ourselves as we grow and know that behind all the posturing and the bravado, there’s still so much for us to learn
for even beautifying filters can only do so much to hide the tears we cried the night before and before we know it, we’re back to feeling alone and unworthy, forgetting how to pick ourselves up from off the floor.
But we do–and we will–even if we have to go through hell and back to do it. For after everything is said and done, we’re all stronger than we know. we just have to get up, dust the dirt off our knees and go.