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The longer you keep it to yourself........... the harder it is to make it go away.

Bulletin Board

There is hope! Read this poem written by a Survivor after attending her first Trauma Recovery Group meeting in September 2010 at DRCC.

Strong Women

I muffle my cries praying that no one hears me.
I walk with my head down hoping no one sees me.
I cry and I pray that my tears don’t drown me.
I am hurting, lost and alone, because no one understands me.
I should be over this, so why is this pain still haunting me?
I need help. Please somebody rescue me.
I fall to my knees begging God to cover me.
I hear his voice telling me that victory is mine “just trust in me.”
I believe that in time the pain will be replaced by the strength that is hidden in me.
The screams and crying will be sounds of joy freely escaping me.
I am ALIVE. It could have been worse.
My family could have been burying me.
In the midst of chaos, I have found other survivors who share the same or similar stories as me.
Together we cry, we share, we heal.
I am no longer alone because I have other strong women just like me.


 

Words and Lyrics of a Wounded Soul

 

Can peace, serenity exist within one’s soul?

My companion, my lover, my enemy – demon – has traveled my life’s path

Hand in hand for 20 years

Footprints in the sand, on the tar covered roads

We’ve been enemies; destroying each other’s soul, gossip buddies,

sometimes  –  best friends  –  got each other’s back

Survivors we call ourselves for we believe that we are the only ones who really know
and
understand each other

And I mean really, really know each other

We’ve gotten angry at each other, fought bloodily behind closed doors

A Separation of the souls we sometimes agree

Not needing each other at times

We are co-dependents

Cheering at the worst times possible

I pull back, fighting to work, to heal this painful wound

I cry, emotionally grasping onto anything that reflect s saneness

I relax, loosening my grip

The pain subsides

I live with the illusion that the wound has healed

The window cracked, allowing air to circulate

Then I feel a rough hand, hear a male Caribbean accent, see ashy skin and

here comes demon clawing its way towards the wound

Knowing that there are still raw scabs

The relationship is renewed slowly

A love affair recaptured

Eventually consuming each other in pain and uncertainty

The flash of all that was real zooms across the screen

Images of a little girl running in the rain, laughing, feeling a part of, not alone

Vision of watching her brothers sneak womyn into their room, having sex in their car

Out front, peeping through the cracks – curious

Wanting to know more

A young lady expresses love through sharing her body with the neighborhoods boys

It did look fun, so why is it not?

Wanting to touch womyn but not knowing how to

Traveling to America, felling a need to explore

20 years old yet naïve, eager, fearless

Welcome to America

Life is exciting, unexposed

Then on gloomy day – the earth shook, and all that had color seems gray, pale, lifeless,

Struggling to capture a breath

First rape – I’m really out of my mind, had to be my fault

Should have locked the door, should have not allowed him to pay for school, my books

He is my sister’s husband, my nephew’s father, he is family – had to be my fault

I became myself within myself

Not knowing which one is real

I can’t say a word, I’m undocumented, I’m lesbian, I’m scared

Who do I tell?

A life of secrets continues

First suicide attempt – that will kill the pain

Second suicide attempt – this time the memories will be erased

Fourth suicide attempt – it has to work, maybe someone will take note, will hold me

Just cannot destroy the me that does not belong, that has learnt to weave its way

Within the other me for survival

I open my mouth, words start to fall out

“He raped me”

I hear, “Is that why you're gay?”

I look across the bed, seeing the sister who had been the mother, the angel in my eyes

Nothing escapes my tongue

My silence has protected me for eight years

A reason to the madness

I numb my soul – alcohol, cocaine, speed, crack – anything to take me away from who

I was, I am

It really did not happen

It is safer believing it was a dream

My illusion of what was, what is, what can be

The demons have become a part of me

Daily I have learnt to walk with, to fight with, to comfort, to protect and slowly tortured

my soul

What does it take to feel forgiveness, to feel self-vole, to feel my soul?

What does forgiveness feel like, is it a happy emotion or just an illusion created to

pacify people like me?

I hear the word, I know how to speak it, but will it give birth from the pit of my soul?

 

Words and lyrics of a wounded soul on a continuous journey, learning to move, to dance

and be one with the vibrations, the beat, the rhymes of a healing soul music.

 

To be continued……………..

 

Started January 06, 2005

Work in progress February 02, 2005, December 10, 2008


Do You Hear Me?

I have learned to use my voice
I now speak and make the choice.

I'm speaking loud and bold.
For I am free no more strongholds.

I am speaking sexual assault is a crime.
I want violators to be convicted and serve their time.

Prison time for ignoring my right to choose.
It was my body, mind, and spirit and not his to abuse.

Abused to the point that I feel my life had taken flight.
So I'm speaking out as I take back the night.

Thanks for listening, caring, and sharing my pain.
For it's through action that I'm strengthened and power I gain.

So publicly, I stand to take back the night!
And for the first time I feel strong and I speak against rape, therefore I fight!!!


If you want to post on this bulletin board, please contact us at info@dekalbrapecrisiscenter.org  THANKS

Your donation supports DRCC’s many programs and services, including; Training volunteers to staff a 24-hour crisis line; Providing clean, new clothing and toiletries to survivors at the hospital; Individual Counseling service for adults and teens; Additional counseling with our support groups; Offering direct services to our growing Hispanic population; Maintaining a reference library on sexual violence issues; Providing accompaniment services to the police station, hospital, or court; Public education with trained speakers throughout our community; Legal advocacy and accompaniment on request.
DeKalb Rape Crisis Center                404-377-1429 Office                   Page updated 09-27-11  
204 Church Street                            404-377-1428 Crisis Hotline
Decatur, GA 30030                          
info@dekalbrapecrisiscenter.org