By Lonyae Coulter, Senior, Kansas City, MO
i was quiet,
because i thought i had to be,
i didn’t want to tell anyone what happened.
it could’ve been done to me another time,
if i told,
i thought maybe i’d get hurt again or wouldn’t be believed.
my mind, my temple, my soul,
all misused and abused,
felt like it was all ravaged and would forever be unwanted.
thoughts of wanting to speak up lingered,
my story could help,
be powerful.
but who could i run to,
where would my safe space be,
who or what would help someone like me?
would, i truly be helped,
there had to be someone i could go speak to,
maybe my pain could be turned into beauty.