Repetition of the Past

I find that abusers claim to be victims of lies,
While victims claim to be normal through silence.
Why mustn't we speak out?
Why must we be silent or be stamped "victims"

I find solace in knowing
"This too shall pass"
I find peace in knowing,
They are simply flashbacks.

They try to silence my words,
But my words will simply last.
For truth comes to fruition,
From repetition of the past.

They tell you you're crazy,
"Insane" and "Psychotic"
That "It never happened"
You're "nuts"
And try to cut all your ties.
But true friends will know the truth,
And trust you wouldn't breed such lies.

You claim it's fake,
It's fiction, because I labeled it as such.
But you and I both know,
the ink is as true as it comes.

You can try to silence my words,
But my words will simply last.
For truth comes to fruition,
From repetition of the past.