"The following piece was written after a long night of discussion and tears with a group of young, beautiful, black women, most of whom had heart wrenching stories regarding their experiences with sexual assault to share. My heart broke in a thousand different ways listening to them, and a bond was formed that night, that I'll cherish for a long, long time. I can do little but pray and mourn with each of them - and write the few words that my heart will allow me to share for now."

I don’t want to rhyme tonight Lord,

I simply want to rant

I want to rant because I looked around the room and saw faces that I knew

Crying out to one another, “Who the hell am I supposed to turn to?

“I’m angry, I’m hurting, I’m confused, heck I’m scared,

But nobody is listening, no one in this damn world cares!

I’m un-beautiful and unloved,

And I have never been good enough,

I feel worthless and disrespected,

And I damn well don’t fit into the picture they’ve created –

My hair is too nappy, my skin is too dark,

As if dealing with these old scars isn’t already enough...

This pain that I feel, I so badly want to fight back,

But there aren’t enough stones I can throw to ease my hurt

There too was that moment in home-girl’s life,

When him, whom she trusted, plunged a knife in her gut,

And she wanted to believe him when he said, “I didn’t mean to…”

As she looked into his eyes, heard him whisper, “I love you,”

But then it happened - again and again,

So she built her walls high, and she hid behind them.

As memories would come, unwelcome, unbidden,

She'd run out into the cold, and breathe in all the snow,

Hoping someone would run after her -

But then again no.

Because then she’d have to tell her story all over again,

And that took a ton of energy… and so a secret it would remain -

Tonight she stumbled into a room full of strangers,

Who like her told their tale, and called each other survivors –

Survivors.

Dear home girl,

Under normal circumstances, we would probably never be friends.

Because I don’t like your sense of style, and you don’t like how I speak,

I don’t like that you like the boy that I like,

And you don’t like that I'm altogether a tad too haughty -

But today you walked in and none of that mattered,

Because tonight we found something bigger than all our T.V. drama –

Home girl tonight we found out, that we’re both survivors...

And that - runs real deep.

I haven't mastered pain, I'm not an expert on what to do,

But I'm here, and I'll listen, I'll sit and mourn with you...