The Strength of my Sisters

For so long

I was

alone.

I was

afraid.

I was

abused,

but I told myself

lies

(They helped me sleep at night).

"He's sorry.

He will change.

He just doesn't understand

how much he

is hurting me."

But he was not,

he would not,

and he did see.

The blind one was me.

His potential for kindness

burned my retinas

and left me

tumbling

into the dark

looking for love

where there was none.

It has taken

years

to wipe the mud from my eyes.

It has taken

tears

to grow stronger inside,

to see and know

that in my pain, I was

never alone.

It took losing myself

to find me

in the faces and souls of other women

who once, too, refused to see.

But we are not weak.

Indeed, we are strong, I believe,

to be able to love a monster,

to find their redeeming qualities.

But we ought to be

done

making excuses

and wearing cover up to

cover up

the truth.

We deserve more.

We are worth more-

more than we ever imagined.

We are love

in need of a little guidance,

in need of slight remembrance

that we are the ones

we're supposed to love that fiercely.

We deserve our forgiveness.

We deserve boundaries.

And we

are

never

alone.