She sat alone, silent in thought.
Loudly distinguishing the
Running pieces of time.
She considered the lowest moments
And smiled at the highest,
But felt agitated at the pieces in between.
Moments have come and gone,
Memories will fade.
What to do with the scribbled pages that stay?
She was brave in the pain.
The taunting and distress.
When evil haunted her nights
Unsafe in her own bed.
Brave in the healing
That came with sudden shock
And post traumatic stings of assault.
She was brave in the setbacks..
The days she fell behind.
Because yesterday became today, all over again.
She was brave in learning who she was.
Finding the voice and rhythm.
To speak up and for herself in spite of fear.
She was brave in caring,
It took time to feel again.
Today she cares for many- children, women, men.
She was brave.
Undeniable strength.
To find her way.
To rise to leadership.
To speak her story.
To hope and dream, and live.
She was brave to love.
To offer herself unconditionally
In unforeseen capacities to truth.
She was brave to believe..
To trust, and to carry on.
In her quiet corner,
She sits alone,
While never alone.
She may seem quiet and meek.
She is a warrior.
–For myself and all the warriors who overcame.
Lisa @ Authentic Truths 