I couldn’t scream.
Yet, there were those inside that wished they did.
A little girl who wanted to scream
But instead was still.
Frozen with terror under a pink gingham comforter.
A teen who wanted to scream
But instead was silent and good.
Starved and disappearing into black coffee and baggy clothes.
A young adult who wanted to scream
But instead stuffed and violently expelled food
In isolation, on her knees, worshipping a porcelain bowl
All afraid of creating noise and causing chaos for others
Destruction turned inward
Wanting to forget
Creating pain that was tangible.
She cannot scream, she cannot speak her truth in words because
She is afraid of becoming ANGER
She has seen this happen
Flashes of phones being ripped off walls, doors slamming, a vacuum cleaner being thrown down a flight of stairs, cars peeling out of the driveway, police knocking on the door . . .
The words we were never allowed to say
SEXUAL ABUSE
DOMESTIC VIOLENCE
ADDICTION
Today is different
Safe and in community
Today we allowed ourselves to be loved
To be supported
To be witnessed
To be LOUD
We released anger, we did not become it.
We did not break
We were held.
We are held screaming.
We are held weeping.
We are held in laughter and joy.
We are held as we share our story.
WE ARE HELD.
