The Silence Burns

How much I’ve trapped within these eyes? Like a mute I struggle to place the words to my lips, and pen to paper.

How do I talk about what happened -What is happening? Is it something I should just lock away?

How do I describe what that time did to me, how I am still struggling to collect the glass shards shredding my fingertips burnt with glue holding this fractured window in place? How do I speak of those moments that I want to forget and yet cannot erase.

This mute agony excavating my veins. Screams in my pores, and yet all is placid and still above while I drown and thrash and convulse in the grasp of a predator from yesterday who still visits me. Easing through my gates, slipping past the bars to taunt me and haunt me and laugh at who I am now.

It’s like you’re saying you’ve won.

But it isn’t you who torments me. It’s my emotion memory. How I felt, not what you did. Echoes of imprinted terror and anger, pain and fire sing through taunt frayed nerve endings.

I shake with rage, shudder in anguish, and wrap this cashmere shawl around me and tell myself it is over. But my mind just doesn’t believe, my body remains on edge, it lives in me and I in it.

We are in recovery but still live the trauma.

And we go on, in silence.

I. Won’t. Fall. Quietly. Into. The. Dark.

Blindly into the night- Fists to the sky, I am free and speech is my birthright… I rise- I move and have feeling- These scars remind me that I am a champion- A survivor- No one can own me-

I wear the crown. And yet these stitches in my mouth…

I suffer and I don’t know why.

And yet I suffer, again, in silence.


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