New anthem written after Trump said it’s a “A Scary Time” for men

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I BELIEVE, ANITA, CHRISTINE, DEBORAH and too many more…

“We must send a message across the world that there is no disgrace in being a survivor of sexual violence – the shame is on the aggressor.”  – Angelina Jolie

 

Survivor “I still wake up with your name stuck in my throat, sometimes where it caught between your hands when you squeezed, I still wake up in fear, most nights, your eyes follow me from every shadow, every loud noise crowding the edges of my memory. I still wake up.”  – Amber Koneval

 

 

Florence – by any other name

 

A double-edged irony

Dredged up shards from childhood.

A hurricane bearing grandma’s name

Following it, via internet

Feeling every blow, just as I did then

Even infancy wasn’t spared

Ask those in her path

 

Gone, neighborhoods,

Businesses, homes,

Evidence of life,

Gone like childhood

A survivor clings to shadows

Knowing the perpetrator

Knowing he, now dead

 

Grandmothers are supposed

To love their grandchildren

Not to offer them up to a friend

Send her in a dress, then

Leave as he arrives

All above board, a deacon

Of the church, above reproach

 

Earliest memories, not yet three

Rituals continued until age five

must arrive in dresses

Lay on a white papered altar

Bitter liquid gagging and choking me

Bathed after, sans evidence

Large, rough hands

So many years ago, yet crystal clear

 

 

Me too brings it back

But with resistance to perpetrators

Christine brings it back

But with the chutzpah to

Name the perpetrator, for herself

For all of us, even those still mute

 

Grandma Florence, I shall

Never forget, how you used me

To keep that friend coming back

No drugs, no alcohol, no consent

Nor, mother dearest, how you conspired

No words

Then beat me for being evil

Decades later, I shall never forget

 

You were all violent storms

That plowed through infancy

Leaving scars, deep furrows

 that will never go away

I grew stronger, put miles, then countries

Between disasters, despite this

I was one of the lucky ones

I’ve worked with many

And watched some perish

 

But unlike Anita, Christine, Deborah

And the others that will come

I didn’t have to do it on television

Ladies, you are heroes

I doff my chapeau

 

At first, the storm approached

In fumbling verse

On pages in my script

Armed with keys to the assaults

Words from my lips, another matter

Finding a career path, finding others

Holding the light, leading the way

They find the path, or they don’t

Often tripped by the righteous indignation

Of abusers and their supporters.

Ignorance and misogyny could soon

Be the law of the land

                            –

How long will America fuel this war on Women, are they incapable of justice? The usual M.O. sweeping their crimes under the carpet and hiding behind a woman’s skirt as they do it. Senate Judiciary Committee will hide, hide from their dirty hands, and the repercussions. 

 

 

 With gratitude for those who have made a stand and in solidarity,

 

Me too, Léa