By. Jennifer Tierney


You, who used to make
me scream out in pleasure
found a way to silence me
without me ever knowing
my lips were being sewn shut
by the hands that used to hold me
before my very eyes.
As I grew quieter
amongst our friends
the voices inside my head grew
stronger, louder...
Leave now; don’t look back; run; tell everyone you know and get out,

but even I silenced myself for a while.
Sex became robotic and calculated -
something I once loved 

became something I participated in in attempt to feel close to you again. It never worked.
I did not feel seen. 

I did not feel heard. 

I couldn’t have felt further apart from you 

especially when you were inside me. 

Those voices inside my head kept 

roaring and one day I snapped and I listened; 

I ran from you without ever looking back. 

My words and stories of what had happened 

slowly started to leak out of me... 

they still are - 

this is one of them.
My voice started coming back. 

It wasn't until a few months and 

a few different sexual encounters 

to cleanse 

you off of my palette later
that I even had an urge to attempt 

to pleasure myself.
When I finally did,
it was like seeing God before my eyes and I watched the walls I had built against myself fall down 

and the earth rattle in celebration.
I screamed out in ecstasy;
something I had not done in so very long,

I actually believed I may not be capable of that type of joy anymore. 

That wasn't just an orgasm.
That was my voice rushing back in

to my being and flooding it with feelings of reclamation and resilience.
You may have taken my voice for a while, but I have gotten my scream back.