It happened at night.
It happened in daylight.
It happened in your home.
Maybe you weren’t allowed to
talk about it.
Maybe the people you love most
chose to look away.
Shh.
STOP
making up stories
do NOT bring this up again and how can you say this about
someone who has been
nothing but good to you?
nothing but kind?
They tell us too many
are healing from things they
cannot speak and
still wonder
why?
WHY share
the vulnerable truth and
risk the people you love most
NOT believing you?
YOU were
a child telling stories
a teenager seeking attention
an adult
asking them to
answer questions
they cannot
will not seek.
AND which reaction cuts the
deep e s t, the shame scorching
every bone?
the I don’t believe yous?
the A dancing D
R O U N its?
the unwillingness to acknowledge their disbelief
entirely?
Please STOP talking about this
Your pain is unsettling,
and I cannot face what else it
might
mean.
They did not believe you then.
They do not believe you now.
Standing up for yourself,
is not worth the risk.
I know.
you were never asking them to
choose.
you were only asking them to look,
to witness you, even if it might mean confronting
unease.
I know.
It’s impossible to heal
under
the WEIGHT of shame
and secrets are
the fruit that attract
self-contempt
inviting it in swarms
decomposing any sense of dignity.
And still you open the door
give voice to the shadows
because the shame will never
burn out
unless it can breathe
Together we dr a g away
the wet blanket of stigma
smoke
smoldering
we extinguish each
gaslit flame, that
desperately fought to silence you
to burn away all self-regard.
Your pain is not dishonorable.
You deserve to be seen.
This was never your fault.
You deserve to feel safe.
If the entire room does not
trust your words.
If your truth is denouncing the one they most revere.
I will hold your truth.
I will speak the words that help
heal
I believe you.
I am here.
Tell me more.
I believe you. ~N~