For Us Who Know

It is the night before Christmas

And all through the world

People are crying and struggling

As the anxiety unfurls

In stocking feet on the couch without much care,

Hoping it ends soon, looking ahead with a blank stare.

No future to speak of, as the past dances in our head

The visions of fury, hatred and dread

To tell the story of all that is black

A whistling wind blows for the belief people lack

When someone thinks to ask “what is the matter?”

Our face twists with shame as all the words scatter.

The window to the past opens up in a flash

Back inside we run in a mad-hatter dash.

It’s too dark. It’s too painful for anyone to know

What we’re feeling inside is more that we can show.

What appears as depression and an uncaring veneer

Is the dark painful past that today has appeared.

The hope of tomorrow blows away with a quickness

As we struggle through the pain of this so-called sickness

A sickness not our own, but imposed upon us in shame

Never daring to speak it out loud nor call the abusers’ name.

It’s a never ending vexation

And a damning revelation

Hiding at all times behind the steel built wall

We hover in the darkness and the anxiety veil falls.

Looking to the sky, finding no relief

We hug ourselves and cry in sadness and in grief

The memories abound in sickening dizzy twirl

Thoughts and memories that make us wanna hurl.

There is no escape from this demon of the past

We just sit in our darkness wondering how long this will last.

Never do we see the light at the end of the road

Only darkness and shadows that haunt us and goad.

Fighting everyday not to curse or explode

Only for the comfort of the unbelieving drove

It is the night before Christmas

We try to see the light

Thinking maybe tomorrow

I’ll be alright.

Knowing full well that the cycle never ends

It’s a maddening circle, one that doesn’t bend

With sheer strength and an inhuman might

We nightmare in sleep, wake up anew and still fight.

It is our right to live without the voices of disbelief

It is our right to be heard and to find some damn relief.

But alas it only us who hear as the burden we must bear.

As the clichés spew from mouths unaware.

‘Tis the night before Christmas

And in sorrow we mourn

For the stolen joy, the stolen life

Which from us was torn.

Reflecting on today, putting on a face strong and blue

Let us each carry one another as we struggle on through.

And let me say this much on this dreary Christmas eve night

 

I love you all and wish you peace as we continue this fight.

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