The House Didn’t Burn Down

My experiential.
The unspoken pending,
Peering in,
Vulnerable.

Plain scared,
Worried of judgment,
Horrified of unveiling myself,
Intimidated by the what ifs.

Letting go,
Showing myself,
Unguarded and seen.

Gut wrenching sobs,
Deep howls of pain,
Remembering the trauma,
Looking at the abuse in the face.

Asking the group to close their eyes as I opened mine,
Looking around,
The house did not burn down,
The souls in the room seemed to stand up for me.

I felt respect, love, genuine empathy emanating towards me,
My story deserves to be heard,
My words have value,
My pain is real.

Noone ran away from my bottomless sobs,
The room did not self-destruct from my pain,
And the house did not burn down.

This girl is just getting started,
She’s on fire.

D.H.