TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ sexual abuse topic .

Don’t have the words to speak it so here a poem I wrote…entitled : Spilt Milk

My need for therapy is loud and screaming,

The Spilt milk of my trauma was filled by my silent pain.

I can’t stop thinking about the moment that I failed to open my mouth

Regret has become such a heavy coat to wear

I tried so hard to keep others from pain while stabbing myself with every word not said ..

Years ago, the night feels more like a nightmare but the reality is that it’s real

It did happen & each time I try to blue the memory another detail comes back clearer ..

Decisions were made, consequences came

My heart has been so burdened by a narrative untold ..

at some point I could almost lie to myself about it

Partly my fault, my thoughts won’t let me forget

For not cherishing myself,

dismissing self love for me..

I keep replaying the scenes of how he took me from me

How he disregarded consent and decided entitlement to me was his right

How he never regret or looked back to see his wrongs

How he told his own narrative while I kept mine shut and locked away

Better to bury the pain that to keep it and feel it

Spilt milk of sorrow, a bitter taste,

Why didn't I speak, open my mouth wide?

Why didn’t I Allow my truth to break free?

why didn’t I confide?

The weight of silence tears at my mind

It feels like an anchor to bear,

Each tear has been a testament to the pain I wear.

Regret clings to me,

A mourning for the milk forever spilt.

What now, in the aftermath of this ache?

How to mend a soul, to heal from a mess I caused?

I stand at the crossroads, uncertain and torn,

Searching for solace in a pain I bear alone.

Yet, the spilt milk stains, a constant reminder,

Of the trauma endured, too late for anyone to believe now

For in the aftermath, I seek a way through,

To transcend regret, to find strength

To transform the echoes into a resilient song,

And reclaim the narrative that's been silent for too long.