Sing It

baby, if nobody ever told you, hear me now. you have a voice.

she learned early on that curiosity was dangerous. questioning out of the question. try and resist. only another hole in that drywall. try and reason. perhaps now you’ll have a real reason to cry. now speak up. I dare you. she couldn’t muster an inch of volume if you begged and pleaded. because words only lead to pain. so that nearly forgettable day, he towered over her seven-year-old frame. told her how it was going to be, reveal that pussy. did she make a peep? a plea? pokes and prods in places she didn’t understand. words don’t matter. her silent presence, invisible voice. doesn’t matter. give him a kiss – like the ones for mommy? wet, slimey, shivers run along her spine. painful sensations, rough bones breaking and entering. where is her voice now? pain likely equivalent to this. so she reasons to remember to forget this truly forgettable day.

pilfered and destroyed. rough barbarians come to pillage the remains. her puzzling developing form, now contemplated and caressed. his piercings steel eyes, remain undisturbed as he rips off her clothes. that day when he asked her to sit by the pool, just them two. nothing else she’d rather do. but this – this she couldn’t have imagined. and yet no sound, no disruption of the peace. because after all, she is only there to please. so when he haphazardly crushed her under his weight – she prayed and prayed to feel something other than the emptiness. which she began to confuse with life. because life isn’t just, words cause pain, and you are nothing.

but baby, since day one. you had a voice. your voice mattered. so sing it from the clouds and let it pour. let it seep into every crevice of every canyon. because you are the power of the lightning and thunder combined.

let me remind, don’t ever feel confined.