This is dedicated to all the survivors I’ve met, and the ones I’ve yet to meet along the way. For those who have found their voice, and for those who may still be finding it. Silence can mean so many things…This is what it means to me!

The silence was the worst sometimes

That moment when it ends

The silence is sometimes the most uncomfortable part of being hurt

It’s a strange feeling to see someone who just hurt you in abhorrent ways turn around and walk away

Watching them leave…It felt as if they were also taking a piece of my spirit…leaving behind another tatter, another rip in my already shredded soul. 

The palpable feeling of invisibility growing by the second

No yelling, crying, blaming, or scolding~they just finish and leave

They don’t acknowledge me 

Or what they did

I’m sure there were times when I had cried, but crying was rare

Most often I would just stare at them as they walked away

Watching them go, I sometimes asked myself, Why did that happen to me

But most times, I silently observed as they walked away, as if I didn’t exist 

As If what just happened didn’t happen at all

Their demeanor towards me was complete neutrality

It was as if I was a stranger who just happened to be in their airspace-detached in a way that if they saw me on the street in five minutes they wouldn’t even remember who I was

And in the after…in the thick silence

Alone with my mind ~I tell myself it’s over ~ stand up~cleanup

Unconsciously, I compartmentalize what just happened and move on to survive whatever comes next

No matter the lighting or the mood of sky, In the thick after, sometimes, the silence was the worst 

©Alexis Rose, Photo by Raluca Enea on Unsplash