Our Summer : My Truth

{107} Knowing

Sometimes it holds us back.

Sometimes it's knowing you won't understand,

NO,

scratch that,

you can't understand. 

It's knowing that you won't empathize,

knowing you won't care enough to ask

questions, any questions.

It's knowing that you are holding your breathe,

waiting for me to laugh it off,

waiting for me to pretend she doesn't exist

all the while telling me to open up,

to help you understand.

It's knowing your hands aren't on her neck, 

yet you wish they were:

your hands didn't bruise her body

yet you wish they did.

It's knowing that while she's climbing to better days, 

sharing her story and living in her truth

you are dragging her down into the fire: 

you are setting the match,

hoping someone will pick it up

and discard her soul in a pile of ash.

Her story won't be ignored because you don't understand. 

***

WARNING! DISCUSSION ON SEXUAL ASSAULT. IF YOU MIGHT BE TRIGGERED, SKIP OVER IT.

I wrote this poem May 17 2020 as a revenge poem. A woman on Twitter who had bravely opened about being raped was attacked by countless people, many of them men who believed that she had no right to call out her attacker and complain. That really hurt me to know that still in this day and age, there are still people who victim blame even when there is evidence. That really troubled my heart because I thought our society was improving.

Later on that night, a friend who I had been taking to for a little while had shamed me for opening up. Over the past 2 months that we had been talking he shared a lot with me. He opened up about his addiction and his divorce. I was really kind and while I couldn't place myself in his shoes, I could always empathize. Over all this time, I hadn't really shared much. When he asked me to open up, I didn't. But that night after seeing that Twitter post, I decided to share something, something only my best friend and I know. It really hurt when he shut me down and joked about how I felt, calling it "kinda weird." I couldn't believe that after all this time of being told to open up and share my story that he would completely disregard how I felt. And so I wrote this poem, full of rage, anger and hurt and I sent it to him. Can you imagine that his only response was "DEEEEEP". I kid you not. That was exactly his words. I was shook but I was happy with my poem. I am very proud to have used writing to express my feelings instead of typing back a rude response. I hope all of you know that your truth matters and even if someone is too rude to care, you story will ALWAYS matter. 

~ Have you ever been shut down for opening up?

How did you handle it??

Hoping you are surrounded by understanding, considerate and loving people,

D.O.