Witness

I was going to speak at an event and share my story of the 10 years I lived in an abusive situation.  I was scared to death on my ride down.  I called a friend, "I can't breath, I feel like I'm going to be sick, I can't do this."  He told me to take a deep breath and think of something from my tradition which would help me.  We hung up and I breathed taking time to slow down and I thought of what might help me. 

In our tradition we have a Sunday called All Saints' Day and in the prayers and hymns we celebrate the cloud of witnesses - all the ordinary people who have influenced our lives.  I thought of all those women who die at the hands of their abusers or who never escape and I wrote this.  My friends words gave me a focus to know who I was doing this for and it wasn't just for me.

You take the shroud off

of your heart

revealing  more and more

of your silent dead life

Places you don't want to wander

but must

To go forward

the crowd of witnesses

Those who have endured the past

those who will endure the future

all stand wanting your voice

to speak, breaking the silence

To reveal the covered injustice

veiled within the halls of "justice"

Why don't you leave?

Why do you stay?

We can make you safe

and we die

by the hundreds, thousands

not only at the hands of our abuser

But at the hand of justice

They tie and bind us further

allowing the control to power

us into the shadows of unreachablity

They stand and point the finger

You did this

wanting freedom

a better life

a safe place

and you are never supported, fully

So we live in the houses of violence

Crying when, when will someone

fully protect and save us

But you don't know

until we speak

how naked we are