SEASONS OF HEALING
Self-Care Notice: This poem contains descriptions of sexual violence.
Sometimes, it comes back.
It’s Vivid Like Yesterday’s Sun.
But in reality – it’s DARKER,
DARKER than storm clouds on a rainy day.
It BURNS hotter than a summer sun.
It HURTS more than falling hail hitting your skin like bullets.
And at times, it is so much LOUDER than the CRACK of a tree branch, or the RUMBLE of thunder, or the BURSTING or fireworks.
IT IS MY TRUTH.
But, I can’t let it define me. I WON’T.
I survived. I am strong. I am a voice for others.
It’s been two decades.
Time passes as slow as leaves falling from a tree during the fall, but as fast as lightning strikes during an unexpected storm at the same time.
2002 I was 9 or 10 years old, no timeline.
Their hands touched me like fire more than once. BURNING HOT. Unwanted.
2004. I WAS 12 YEARS OLD. I remember everything.
It was a warm spring day, but a COLD reality.
His hands touched me like fire. BURNING HOT. Unwanted. Fingers and Tongue; Inside me , all over me.
His body, 5 years older than mine; overpowering.
THE TREES ABOVE WERE MY SOLACE. I SURVIVED IN THE MIDST OF THEIR LEAVES, TRUNKS, AND BRANCHES.
2006: Speak justice into healing. A small conviction but my voice and my God was louder and healed me more than any sentence.
Waves of healing - peaks and valleys ; but hope lingers no matter what.
Don't let your dreams be just dreams, or gone with the wind, I didn't. Trust.
2024, the sun shines so often now.
I cannot get lost among the clouds and storms.
So much has changed – like the seasons.
The seasons of healing.
Spring, Summer, Winter, Fall.
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