On Silence of Littles

Sometimes there are things that hit. And when they hit you its like they know the words that have been swirling in your head; the things that you long for the things that you hope someday will be.  I found this poem on Facebook by Nora Cooper called On Silence.  And the words were this .......

A little while ago another poet asked me for the name of my abuser. They said this was to protect their friends.  So I told them.  I didn't want to I thought I had to. It's just that I have heard so much about survival, Like I should not lie if I am going to cry wolf I must name it. Don't be another girl making another mountain out of a mo-hill. I have heard so much about strength so much about how the voice is redemption; how to speak is to heal sometimes I feel like everyone just wants the resurrection story out of me,  The parts of my survival I know how to make useful.  I am so ashamed of all that which I do not say and sometimes I don't want to talk about it, I don't want to write a poem about it, I don't want to tell my mom. I don't want anyone to look at me like I am brave or like I am a little bird with a broken wing or to look at me at all...Sometimes my heart is breaking and other times I am just tired. I have spent so much time at war with my silence I have forgotten everything she has done for me. When I was terrified to speak when my abuser was in the audience at a slam when they talked to me after when my silence met theirs when this poet demanded a name of me ..when my stomach was nothing but a mess of fear and obligation my silence took my hand and squeezed it gently as if to say you owe them nothing; I am here if you need me to speak only if you want to; so to you quiet child who have kept everything just inside your mouth for whatever reason, I see you even when you say nothing I believe you; I believe that you are scared I believe that it hurts I believe that it happened I believe that you loved them I believe that you didn't I believe that you still do I believe that you are confused about forgiveness and justice......Believe me quiet child you are doing nothing wrong there is no right or wrong here there is only your choice; you speak when you are ready. I promise your silence has not set a caged beast free You did not release a monster you SURVIVED one trust me quiet child I know of a girl before me I do not blame her. I do not blame her my Silence hears this poem looks at me teary eyed and says, I say that I am sorry I hated you I always thought you were the weakest part of me; the part that needed the most forgiveness but no you are the first one who never asked me to prove anything, the only one who believed me before I spoke and after and now when my silence takes my hand.....I squeeze back, I say I know.  I say Thank You and I mean it.