Now that I am studying the anatomy of abuse, I run my fingers under the skin of slaughtered souls who are still alive.
Where does that leave us? We, the majority for whom justice will never be adjudicated and for whom victory is a vapor?
I wonder if anyone can hear?
If all ears are clogged with cacophony.
I wonder if anyone can see?
If all eyes are dim – all sight silenced with praise.
I wonder if anyone can speak?
If all lips are licked with lies.
Be suspicious when someone of greater power assigns blame to someone of lesser power.
Women, who were voiceless “property,” fought for the right to have property and a voice.
In my family of origin, as well as in my mother’s, children did not have rights, and we all suffered for want of them.
He appears more peaceful dead than alive, funny, so am I.
A small smile had been set across his face; how benevolent in death, how malevolent in life.
His hands look like clubs… there were.
I reach, I must.
I touch his cold, hard, huge hands that hammered warm, tender, small places.
Both of us dead. One of us breathing.
I want to tell you the truth – in detail.
I want to explain and I have some ‘splaining to do.
I want to tell you that through the all the lies, the truth will prevail.
I want to tell you the things that are true.
We have this false notion that because we “know” someone to be upstanding in the light, that somehow they are upstanding in the dark. This does not bear out with the lived experience of millions of survivors or evidence.
doll: a small model of a human figure, often one of a baby or girl, used as a man’s toy.