For the Girls Who Were Told To Be Quiet

For the girls who reach
for the same hand that hurt them 

who mistake bruises for warmth,

and silence for safety.

Who flinch and say “I’m fine”
with a smile stitched in survival thread.
This is for you.
For the ones who learned
to say “yes”

because “no” was never an option,

who carries their childhood
like a funeral dress,
worn and invisible,
still somehow too heavy.
For the little girls
whose cries got caught in their throats
because no one would believe them,
because church said “forgive
because no one wanted to ruin
a teen boy’s reputation
over a girl’s stolen years.

The same kind of man
with a Bible in one hand
and hunger in the other.

The kind the Scripture warned us about
while they twisted the words
to shame the lambs
and protect the wolves.
This is for the ones
who learned to pray with shaking hands,
who thought God was only watching 

never saving.
Who learned too soon

that comfort sometimes wears
the same face as fear.
But you, girl 
you are not what they did.
Not the silence.
Not the shame.

You are thunder restrained,

a storm mid-scream,

waiting to become the flood
that finally drowns
every lie they built around your name.
Speak.

Even if your voice trembles,
even if it cracks like a child’s.

Your truth is not too much.

Your healing is not too late.

And the hand you need 

the true one 

is your own.

- A healing 19 year old girl

By Tajarah H.