Party
For the first time, one of my dear friends saw her molester through the lens of a grown woman,
not through the eyes of a five-year-old,
for the first time, she realized where was God?
when she experienced what had mutilated her vocal chords,
for the first time, I threw my victory party,
had the speakers so loud
the ceiling was pumping it's fist
to the notes of my sisters' testimonies,
because I knew that this was just the EP,
and my curtain call was going to be the next track
on our next full album.
YOU ARE READING
Paint Us Gray: Part 2
Poetry(This is part 2; please read part 1 first!) Rejection. Betrayal. Heartbreak. Grief. Unfortunately, we've all had a swallow, some more than others, of this bitter brew. This is just a sliver of my chapter that is a part of this world's grand nar...
