This is dedicated to all the survivors I’ve met, and the ones I’ve yet to meet along the way. For those who have found their voice, and for those who may still be finding it. Silence can mean so many things…This is what it means to me!
The silence was the worst sometimes
That moment when it ends
The silence is sometimes the most uncomfortable part of being hurt
It’s a strange feeling to see someone who just hurt you in abhorrent ways turn around and walk away
Watching them leave…It felt as if they were also taking a piece of my spirit…leaving behind another tatter, another rip in my already shredded soul.
The palpable feeling of invisibility growing by the second
No yelling, crying, blaming, or scolding~they just finish and leave
They don’t acknowledge me
Or what they did
I’m sure there were times when I had cried, but crying was rare
Most often I would just stare at them as they walked away
Watching them go, I sometimes asked myself, Why did that happen to me
But most times, I silently observed as they walked away, as if I didn’t exist
As If what just happened didn’t happen at all
Their demeanor towards me was complete neutrality
It was as if I was a stranger who just happened to be in their airspace-detached in a way that if they saw me on the street in five minutes they wouldn’t even remember who I was
And in the after…in the thick silence
Alone with my mind ~I tell myself it’s over ~ stand up~cleanup
Unconsciously, I compartmentalize what just happened and move on to survive whatever comes next
No matter the lighting or the mood of sky, In the thick after, sometimes, the silence was the worst
©Alexis Rose, Photo by Raluca Enea on Unsplash