By
Sherri Smith
No one would listen
When I was a child
and I wanted to express my joy
happiness, uncertainty and fear
I heard:
"Go to your room till you settle down"
Or when I was ten and had been
sexually abused and needed to
express my fear, confusion,
guilt feelings.
I heard:
"You're OK. Don't tell anyone"
No one would listen
When I was fifteen and had my
heart broken by my first boyfriend
who dumped me the week after graduation.
I heard:
"I told you so"
Or when I was eighteen, getting ready
to get married, desperate to find
shelter from the constant turmoil at
home, anything to get away.
I heard:
"You'll be sorry"
No one would listen
The night my sister in law was having her
baby and my back was hurting so bad, not
knowing I too was in labor, the last night I felt life.
I heard:
"You're OK. Just having sympathy pains"
Or when a week later, I was delivered of my still born
daughter, unable to see her, touch her, hold her or
grieve for her. Drinking family members at her funeral
while I was confined to the hospital.
I heard:
"You're OK. You'll have another one"
No one would listen
When I was so very unhappy while living
in an emotionless, love-starved marriage
for twenty four long years.
I heard:
"Good Christians don't get divorces"
Finally
I heard
I listened
to my own needs, my own voice that told me:
"You are worthy to be loved. You don't have to be a victim
any more"
At last, someone listened.
Dedicated to Casandra Lee St. Clair, Born-still
April 17, 1969
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