Not Hers To Carry

She wore long sleeves in summer heat,

To hide the marks she didn't choose,

Her silence louder than a scream,

Her truth; something no one would use,

A whisper of, 'she asked for it',

Echoed in the courtroom-coloured walls,

While justice slept beneath her chair,

And shame was hung upon the walls,

But no, it wasn't hers to carry,

The bruises, blame, or bitter stress,

She is not the sin, but the survivor,

Not the wound, but the one who dares,

Dares to live when pain persists,

To speak in rooms that were once cages,

And walk again on fractured lands,

This is for the ones still hiding,

Still bleeding in unseen ways;

You are more than what was taken,

You are worthy, loved and brave.