#METOO

(  # )

( M ) eaningful 

( E ) xpression 

( T ) otality

( O ) f

( O ) ppression 

#METOO is serious, gathers momentum. 

Not to be, taken lightly. 

And not either, for granted. 

Those affected are, highly effected. 

Many a night, sleepless remembering. 

All alone and, not alright. 

Hidden beneath layers, the fear. 

Unable to share, with anyone. 

Lost in world, own making. 

The only way, to survive. 

In order to, get by. 

To self, important, that deny. 

Pretend happened to, someone else. 

Worked only for, little while. 

Found other ways, to escape.

Starting out elemental, was essential.

Cats and music, for instance. 

Books taking to, another place. 

No spare moment, to think.   

Eventually become very, detail oriented. 

As time passed, needed outlet. 

In order not, to explode. 

Writing poetry serving, dual purpose. 

Hoping by expressing, helps others. 

Deep distrust of, other people. 

Yet remaining a, conflicted optimist 

So damaged become, easy prey. 

Take advantage “Need, to give”. 

Little by little, become isolated. 

Real self hidden, deep inside.

Everyone did think, knew solidly. 

Had no clue, were mistaken. 

An introvert displayed, as extrovert. 

Yet force field, so strong. 

No one could, go beyond. 

Unseen even to, one’s self. 

To sanity hold, on tight. 

Desperately with all, one’s might. 

By other’s rules, was living. 

A trap bringing, much grieving. 

A way out, not believing. 

The past did, keep reliving. 

Stepping away from, it all. 

Trying to discover, who are. 

Who did want, to be? 

Searching out religiously, for answers. 

Appearing strange and, even deranged. 

From “you” others, do distance. 

By now probably, have guessed. 

My journey am, speaking of. 

Each of ours, quite unique. 

Do what takes, to survive. 

First married because, felt must. 

Second married because, was “free”. 

Then realized was, still confused.

Work on “me”, or lose. 

The “me” meant, to be. 

Desired that could, clearly see. 

Many bumps along, the way. 

To do better, I’d say. 

Still seen as, the prey. 

Kept drawing them, my way. 

Same pattern just, different name. 

Was time to, take action. 

Critical that try, therapy again. 

Per doctor get, on antidepressant. 

Saw taking on, too much. 

Still attempting to, rescue everyone. 

They were combination, I needed. 

Helped me back, on track. 

So ready for, big event. 

Thankful didn’t miss, when arrived. 

Even then I, almost did. 

Was about repeat, familiar pattern. 

“Rescue” another at, my expense. 

Didn’t recognize then, do now. 

Miracle came into, my life. 

Something never expected, to happen. 

A perfect fit, for me. 

Full of love, and laughter. 

I still have, survival techniques. 

I will always, use them. 

Now not needed, as often. 

My “trigger” moments, have decreased. 

Watching the “Hearing”, set off. 

Have shoulder to, cry on. 

Encouraged by those, speaking out. 

Working on changing, our culture. 

No one can, do alone. 

Will no longer, be silent. 

Will no longer, suffer alone. 

#METOO movement here, to stay!