Dear Abuse Survivor/Supporter,
I have prepared this spoken word as a special gift for you. In it may you recognize the ruin in Friday and await the Son Rise on Sunday.
Survivors know just about all there is to know about that Friday.
They know even if they know Him not.
They know about the lies lashed around their wrists and feet.
They know what it is to be bound and betrayed by a beloved.
They know what kisses were for.
They know about the salacious set up,
The friends who ran away,
The dark night when they prayed,
And absolutely nothing changed.
They know the cowardly cower of those who peddle in popularity,
They know the brief plead with the angry mob,
They know the freshly washed hands that claimed immunity.
God help me, they know.
They know what it means to be handed over,
To be stripped;
To be assaulted;
To be beaten,
To be broken;
To have to carry a crushing weight in their weakened estate;
They heard their own knees buckle.
Damn right they know.
They know what it is to be innocent;
To have entrusted their vulnerability to another;
To be laughed at;
To be mocked.
It rings in their ears still.
They know what it means to have their reputation,
Stripped, ripped, ruined, robbed, and hung in half naked rags in public humiliation.
This, they know too well.
They know what is feels like to be forsaken,
To have all affirmation turn away.
To be utterly destroyed and alone.
I hang my head and I weep from somewhere deep.
Don’t you know, they know?
They know what it is to descend to the depths of darkness and death,
To watch as parts of themselves are crucified.
Oh yes… curious onlooker, religious scholar, high priest, and peddler…