Writing to be Heard

When I was four years old I nearly drowned...

and for the thirty seconds before I was saved,

my screams could not be heard.

The weight of the water pressed 

in on my lungs and I was trapped in

a clear, blue pool that may have very well been

 my deathbed.

I write knowing I could have died that day.

I write for all of the women who can't speak up.

I write for the children whose voices are too small.

And most importantly, I write because I know what it feels llike 

to not be heard when you need it the most.