A Poem: Truth or Denial

We choose.

Today’s Audio—

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Photo by Sherise Van Dyk on Unsplash

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Hello all and sundry,

Well, friends, thanks for dropping in! As always, let’s have a drink (sweet green tea for me!), some snacks, share some poetry, and some thoughts.

I’ve shared before that my poetry is largely centered in feelings—good or bad—and has been a method of therapy for me. Sure has, thank goodness! I do love my uplifting pieces, and wouldn’t it be perfectly wonderful if that was all one had to express? I sure would prefer it. Yet, sometimes that therapy can raise some discomfort, in myself and in others, and one finds the necessity to write about it. Get it all out!

Today’s piece is along those lines. It is a bit of an inspired rant sprinkled with that feeling that swells when you hear that someone, anyone, is uncomfortable with what you write and, in not so many words, you get the message that you are still expected to keep quiet, even if it’s the truth. Watch what you share. Be careful what you write. Well, some days just need that release.

So, if you are not up for it, no hurt feelings should you pass. If you don’t mind a little fuss or fury, over discounted experiences and feelings, well, lend me your ear!

No worries, this didn’t come from recent events, nor was it pointed at me—directly, but the conversation was held some time back, when suggestion was made that the rough truths in one’s life might need to be kept hushed as they may only hold a hint of legitimacy, thus making someone’s word and experience, questionable or improbable, or even flat out false. For more specifics, the discussion and ultimate response was in reference to abuse allegations.

Ah….well, the #MeTOO in me got a little hot and a whole bunch disgusted. And, to be honest, I wondered, if we had been discussing similar happenings in my life, would they have given suggestion and question to my experiences? Would they have posed the same—disbelief or denial?

These were some of their responses:

• Making a big deal out of nothing, really.

• Surely they should have reported sooner.

• If you wait to tell, it likely isn’t true.

• People just want attention and they make most things up.

• They’re just looking for a payday.

• The accused is such a nice person, they couldn’t have done that.

• They shouldn’t have been x, y, z to begin with, so there’s that.

• Even, if, it happened, seems they just need to let it go and get over it; bad stuff happens to everyone.

Well, by the end of that conversation, with a friend, I truly expect they would probably have those very same suggestions in my instances. It fully felt that even if they wouldn’t disbelieve, they certainly would NEVER want to know or hear about what took place.

AND THAT…HURT.

So…I wrote about it. Now, I’m sharing. The thing is, there are, I’ll concede, instances where people LIE about things (usually to patch up any of their own wrongs, or some are just plain vindictive), I don’t discount that, HOWEVER the m-a-j-o-r-i-t-y of folks who come to reveal a horrific and life damaging experience have, IN FACT, HAD that experience. For those who were not there to unsympathetically and quite judgmentally dismiss another’s experience lacks compassion and decency and the ability to empathize. Not only…..but, it surely further hurts the one who was hurt.

Anyway, the rant came bursting from me and got put to paper in the form of a poem.

Here it is—

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Truth or Denial

What was it?
Really?
The only thing
You wanted
To know 
About me?
Nothing of past pains,
No real realities,
No truth spoken out loud.
No way to say…
There are parts,
In life,
That JUST shouldn’t BE.

Oh, how comfortable
To spotlight only the spotlighted
Moments:
The celebrations, the beauty, the laughter, the triumphs,
The satisfying times of living.
Yes,
….that’s better;
Blinders are best aides
For denial’s depth perception,
For diapering your ears of discomfort.

Right….
Let’s NOT talk about it.
Because….
The raw, 
All wounds,
Look better
Covered UP.
Don’t they?

What didn’t 
You want to see
In my scars?
The reasons?
The contributing factors?
The mistakes?
The blatantly brandished BAD
That sliced my soul?

Oh, easy is nice,
Isn’t it?
No feelings to feel,
No entering a darkness
No one wants to walk into—
No nastiness of monsters,
Revealed. 

What are you
So afraid of—
In shining a light,
THE LIGHT,
Into that room?
In removing a rotting
Bandage?
In giving it air?
In wanting,
With HOPE,
For it to heal? 

Are you more concerned
That your eyes and ears,
Your fears and buried tears,
Will open your own gashes,
Kept secret, yet oozing?

I get it.
I would rather not 
go in,
feel the hurt…
examine,
question,
uncover,
reveal…
for denial is 
easier…
BUT, 
to heal….

To HEAL
Requires
The real.
The RAW-ness
The TRUTH.

I know,
You don’t want to know.
Still,
A wound
Needs 
Caring:
A compassion
For the journeyed,
A love,
Through the knowing,
A salve
For the soul
That’s hurting.

When you
Say, 
“No…
Don’t talk about it…
Shhh, HUSH.”
What then,
Should I know,
About you?
Answer seems—
Only that,
In your self-preservation,
you 
Only wanted 
To hear
The good stuff
About my life,
And discard
The other half
Of me.
Oh…

Oh, no….

Oh, the heart—
It’s torn 
In half
By denial.
And
I never thought…

You’d kill me.




W. Gray  -2024

Photo by Marek Studzinski on Unsplash

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Thank y’all for hanging in there with me and having a listening ear. I am grateful for so much: for poetry’s therapeutic value, for this platform, for having an avenue to find release, for the freedom to speak one’s truth, and for all of us who are sympathetic, empathetic, and willing to stand with those who cannot, and should not, stand alone.

I pray, should anyone come to us with their truth, that there is no turning them away or refusing to hear or being in denial of their experience. May we open up that uncomfortable door and love them through it.

Love you all. See you in the next post!

Many blessings and MUCH LOVE,

~Wendy💜

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