Not afraid – – –

I am not afraid – – –

I am not afraid – to open that dark chapter of my book – to illuminate its depths with my sight – to let the sunshine of my eyes and many eyes fall upon its youthful looping handwriting.

I am not afraid – to see the words that are there – to read them aloud – disgorge them from my throat – to hold them precious in my mouth – shape them with my lips and tongue – to breathe them jagged and loud into the world around me.

I am not afraid – to untether those words – to let them fly raucous and free – to weave and soar as they will – to lodge in the ears of a single friend or a thousand strangers – to roost misshapen in their thoughts – to languish uncomfortable in many minds.

I am not afraid – to unleash that violent exodus – to face those lacerating truths – to feel their barbs – their razor talons – to absorb anew their cuts – to heal their still-softly-weeping hours – – –

No – I am not afraid to tell – – –

I am not afraid – to speak these words – this chapter – this story – I am not afraid – of its pain – its poison – its grief – its darkness – its shame – I am not afraid of having it seen and heard and understood and known.

I am not afraid of this story.

I am not afraid of my story.

I am not afraid.