tonight I sat in dark warmth
and listened to carols of old
sung with love
and passion
and true faith.
filling those moments
was the memory of joy stolen....
the theft motivated by a need
to keep me in line,
to keep me isolated,
to keep me powerless.

and I allowed it.

over and over
I let them
steal my joy,
kill my love,
wound my very soul.

a storm began to play the roof
joining the sound of a quiet guitar.
raindrops fell like love.
I reclaimed my joy.
I reclaimed me.

....