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 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
This is a poem of anger
this is a poem of grief
this is a poem for those
to whom death was the only relief
from the words of abuse
from attitudes of shame
from the spittle and curses
from the taking of blame
from the raining of blows
from fists and boots and rocks
from the penetrating blades
that **** like sharpened *****
from the bullets and blasts
that tear flesh apart
from the tearing of veils
from the hammers and nails
this is a poem of outrage
this is a poem of pain
this is a poem to honour
those who were never to blame

Cynthia Pauline Jones 20/11/13
For International Transgender Day of Remembrance
I wrote this on 20th November 2013 and on the same evening this poem became my first ever public reading of my work. Each year, trans* people and allies gather on that date to observe International Transgender Day Of Remembrance (TDOR) where the names are read of all those who have been notified as having lost their lives as the result of transphobic violence during the preceding year. In 2013, over 250 names were read and it is thought that the true number is much greater. Suicides (trans* people have by far the highest suicide rates of any sector of society) are not included in the names read, though they outnumber those directly murdered many times over.
 Apr 2014
Thia Jones
And the monstering comes to this
the result of the ignorant *******
the product of shaming
by society's ill-trained watchdogs
gnawing at the bones
before the body's cold
before the body's aligned with mind
and still gnawing when all's done
to make sure we know the price
to keep us in our assigned place
to monster us, to demonise
to create and feed self hate
so we hide, turn inward, upon ourselves
so we don't disturb
the comfortable myths
by which they live
the black and white
wrong and right
binary fantasies
that allowing us to be would challenge
so the real monsters monster us
and impose on us the binary
of life and death

Cynthia Pauline Jones, March 2013
Posted to mark the first anniversary of the discovery of the death of Lucy Meadows, trans woman, sister, schoolteacher, hounded to her end by the jackals of the tabloid press. On reflection, I've reclassified this one 'Explicit', due to the triggering potential.

— The End —