To The Women Who No Longer Call

By ktlynhagan 06/13/19

To the women who no longer call,

I still know your name. The same name that claimed their seat when they first came in. The same name that was strong enough to raise their hand and ask for help. The name that courageously got other names. The name that ended up identifying with my name.

You have not been forgotten. The words we read, the tears we shed, the coffee we had, the secrets we shared, all still kept. 

Your name is still in my book with a date that represents more than you may know right now. The moment of willingness you showed yourself. Dates change, we change, but our names do not. 

I still think of you. No matter if I hear from you. I wonder if you are okay, if you are safe, and if you had breakfast. I pray someone has told you they love you. I hope that someone is yourself.

You might need more time. You might need to fall a couple more times. You will get back up. I am sure of it. I saw the fight in you when you said your name. It was a whisper but you were heard.

The seed has been planted. It’s being watered and nurtured for you by every hand you held. Growing back towards your truth. 

There are no coincidences. They are life rafts being thrown out to you by those hands. The same hands that are tattooed with your name, inked in your tears, washing away your fears. It’s drifting with you within reach. The boat is near. Reach out.

Your seat is still here, you just have to make it to the door.




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