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When the Rain Fell by Lelia Thomas

Rain fell in the January cold,
Rushed up on her defenses in the night.
And gates bent beneath the weight
Of flooding words and waves of fact–
And it was far too late.
There’s dry earth beneath her skin now
That no flooding water will sate,
She’s burned up with bitterness and painful anger,
Tired of her silence beneath the roaring thunder.

Rain fell down to chill and soak her through,
Pooled around her ankles
And swallowed up the tears
Of hurricane anguish and currents of lies.
And it’s been too many years
To have prayed enough that her knees are raw
From all the kneeling to a God who never hears.
She’s weary from battles and won’t go to war.
There’s nothing left to scream, nothing to say,
Nothing left to do but swim away.

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No abuse is too small. In the U.S., it is Sexual Assault Awareness Month, but I recommend, no matter the country you’re residing in or the month that you read this, be aware. All advertising money made this month was donated to RAINN.