A metaphor for why you can't quit.

Some nights I know it must be devastating to be you.

 

Carrying the weight of an ocean of women,

 

Most you don't even know the last names of.

 

I pray you do not drown in us. 

 

I'm sure, you never asked to be a martyr for this cause.

 

Never pleaded for the platform on which you stand. 

 

You never asked to be a symbol for the crimes done to you.

 

Or to be labeled a victim and thrashed with hate

 

Because someone laid claim to your skin

 

You are more than a paper body,

 

You are more than a woman. 

 

On nights were you feel like a lone warrior I pray you realize there is an army of women ready to go to war for you and you may

 

not even know our last names.

 

But you have verbalized the storms in our pasts and allowed light to shine through again. 

 

I know you wanted to heal.

 

And in revealing your story to the masses you paved way for just that. 

 

I know you didn't know the storm wasn't over. 

 

And there will be vultures waiting to tear into you solely because of your wounds. 

 

I'm sorry your life has not been your own to live 

 

and through your words you have liberated so many but not yourself. 

 

I hope when words tear into you, 

 

You remember the ocean.