For No Reason
This prose was written in 2014 as part of my healing from the pain of sexual abuse. Through an amazing in-depth counseling group for women in transition, plus the love and the prayers of believers helped in my healing for a better life.
I dedicate this prose to all those who have been through sexual abuse and sexual assault and is still struggling with the healing process. Always remember you are not alone. As a child and teenager I, too, was sexually molested by family members, neighbors, and ‘so-called’ friends. By writing this poem/prose I managed to get rid of the venom of the abusers who attempted to hide in the crevice of my soul.
Before my complete healing, I tried getting deliverance through so many means: smoking, drinking, clubbing; but, too no avail. On and off depression trailed me like an old snake, which tried its best to suck the blood from my heels. But ah, Jesus Christ came to my rescue. I was able to get my thoughts untangled from the abusers’ web. Thank you, Lord!
Presently, my aim is to encourage and to bring healing to others who were victimized and violated by any type of sexual predators. I am willing to donate my story. Yes, it’s time to tell! They are evil; they can’t see the eyes of the babies crying, they have blocked their soul while drawing on the pure breathe of their own seeds.
A new dawn has drastically arrived to help in our inner healing, the listening ears of those who care are here to help us, we are not alone. #MeToo #YouToo
For No Reason
Yesterday, while on an errand I stole some time to play,
I didn’t think of time and space; only wanted the day
To skip over wildflowers, small rocks, even to dodge wild dogs
Pause for moments to watch hogs dig in the dirty river,
And to find a way through the murkiness of logs.
I greeted the neighbor, and was summoned inside-
Never occurred that I was sentenced to chide.
The fubsy shadow covered the wall;
Creating a blanket for my great fall.
There he was sitting in his usual chair,
‘Chile come over here’
And with no hesitation held me forever,
As my blood dripped upon his massive finger-
Shock and in pain fear flooded my spine.
Who can I tell of this ordeal of mine?
For no reason, I couldn’t tell father or mother,
I dried my tears and promise to stay away from
the monster upstairs-
I heard no whisper,
Only quiet and silence.
And when I wish that the anguish would wash away,
With every hurricane or flood lifting from the quay-
Another greeted me with charm;
No sense of alarm.
All the while scrutinizing my ripe age,
My innocence now trapped in a cage.
Every other night while mama worked hard,
My dearest gently spread my legs out wide-
Pierced me with his stick, then gave me candy for a treat,
Drawing from a cistern that didn’t belong to him.
Deep within I became the song of grim;
No good hymn could soothe my soul.
As the heavy breath of alcohol streamed down my neck,
Dead to the smoke which blinded my perception:
‘Mama didn’t care’
And somewhere the whisper came, ‘don’t cry’
Tears forming creases on the corner of my eyes;
Where are you God of whom mama spoke about-
Yet, I have not abandoned you, my Lord,
Maybe you have a reason for what I couldn’t describe,
‘Cause the sun still shone on me every morning,
And if there was no sun; the moon guided me
Out of the Valley of Baca
Out of a name that doesn’t belong to me.
Oh, how I wish that the angels took me away to be cleansed-
In pure waters, ever flowing waters;
To wash away the guilt that stained me for no reason.
Today the trees didn’t move, the grass didn’t sway,
The clouds stood still-
I wanted to die, for soon another came by.
Was there a spell cast on me?
Was there an attachment to the imps, the devils which ravished
The young who cries daily for a savior?
The darkness seems endless, when will the light come?
Yet, the more I desire for the light; darkness approached with its
Peeping Toms-timing and watching my every move;
Like outlaws, fugitives, they cast shadows behind back doors,
Longing to touch: measuring, drooling, in the madness of their minds
Locked me within.
Then for no reason the anger for getting no answers
For my sexual mishaps drew me to conclude:
That the sons of my mother’s womb might not be brothers after all,
Uncles whom I should have embraced,
Or fathers of any kind, pasting floors-
While lusting, sweating for their kin
are all devils in disguise.
The constant hitting of my ankles against the small rocks,
My steps couldn’t keep up with my thoughts,
So I started running, running from their grip;
Running from under their dark clouds.
Ah, love, my questions are endless.
I see whom my soul loves:
‘Don’t cry’, the whisper said
For no reason I was taken away;
To heal me from the deeply hidden concoction of their sexual exploitations-
And from beyond I have seen that they can no longer hide
Behind the veil of deception.
Ah, thoughtless, never saw tomorrow coming,
How blind to have planted seeds of your corruption.
Now dead before poisoning my entire being;
I spoke life to my womb and mind,
I ask Him who is ever merciful, to have mercy on your souls.
Then I rest my last question: ‘Why such agonizing pain?’
Why my love, whom my soul seek after?
Again, the whisper came-
Reference for Image:
A young girl crying http://arrested-development-ministry.blogspot.ca/p/signs-of-childhood-sexual-abuse.html
The Valley of Baca is found in Psalm 84:6. According to commentary a place which was dry, hard and unpleasant. A place of weeping or lamentation.