And still I will rise, I will rise, rise, rise…
I will rise from the muck and the mire of the devastating blow of addiction.
I will rise from the dark cloud of deception.
I will rise from the sucker punch of betrayal.
I will rise from the shrouding and the clouding of the truth cloaked in lies.
I will rise from the rejection, from the abandonment, from the abuse.
I will rise from battered and tattered blows of addiction.
I will rise from the harsh words, the names called, the stares that look right through you, the apathy, the indifference, the rage, the wrath…and still I will rise, I will rise, I will rise.
Up from the ashes and heaps of the deceit,
Out of the mire and the muck of abuse,
Out of the weeds that strangle the truth & distort reality
From death to life
From fighting in the cocoon- that I thought was safety- that was not safety-that was captivity
From chains of objectivity, sexual captivity –unknowingly shackled with my will but against my will
My voice was muted, my choice was trampled, my noise was silenced, my agency taken, shaken, breakin…
My heart broken, shattered
My trust dashed, obliterated
My safety gone, smashed.
My reality shaken, quaken, breakin
Broken dreams, bleeding heart…
Addiction takes and takes and it takes and it takes…
But it gives and it gives and it gives and it gives—gives pain, heartache, loss, and more pain, and more heartache and more loss, and pain…
I will rise…I will rise from the pain.
I will rise from the loss.
I will rise from the heartache, the heartbreak. I will rise, I will rise, I will rise.
I am a fierce fighter. I am a survivor. I am a wounded warrior. I wear precious scars. I am broken golden.
To care for the needs of all who mourn in Zion, give them bouquets of roses instead of ashes, Messages of joy instead of news of doom, a praising heart instead of a languid spirit. Rename them “Oaks of Righteousness” planted by God to display his glory. Isaiah 61:3 (MSG)
