Dear Body,

For years you protected me
Shielded me from the truth
that our twelve your old brain
couldn’t comprehend

For years you stored the memories
of callused hands clamped over our mouth
Hot breath in our ears
The grip of a grown man’s hands on our
Twelve-year-old wrists

He forced you to become
a House of Shame and Secrecy
No one will believe you
You deserved this
For years,
Even I didn’t believe you

And so we spiraled
So full of words
No space for food
We withered away
Made lines on our wrists
To bleed out the diseased
Not even realizing
The secrecy was the disease

So we stopped swallowing words
Learned to speak our truth
Whispered the words
To family
Teachers
Mentors
Surrendered them to the police
Gently placing the truth
In their open hands
Wondering – will they believe me?
And they did
And the district attorney did
And the grand jury did
And at the age of thirty-two
We commanded our truth
Owned it and accepted it
And the jury said

Guilty.

The jury said guilty
The jury said guilty

And the jury said
Guilty
Twelve times

Twelve times
For twelve years

Dear Body,

You are no longer a house of shame
You are no longer a sack of bones
You are not a vessel of abuse
A tool for trauma

You are alive
You are a survivor

We’ve been through hell
Separated by our truth
But now we heal as one

Love,
Your Brain