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Zero Nine Nov 2017
What if I just sat myself in the chair with open ears to silence?
In quiet, would the voices play over and over, even then?
What if I unplugged myself for a moment, no longer?
Would it be time enough to see the vitriol I become?
In quiet, would my love be renewed?

In quiet, would I realize the pain created by hating the hater?
More than disparate views, I hate anger. I hate violence.
The master's walls resist the master's tools, I read it.
Even she, she would despise my guise. "Oh, really?"
She'd maybe say, "Get lost. Be gone." I feel it.

What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated?
Do I spend my days hiding or out fighting?
What do I do when I'm part of the crew hated?
What if I want to change minds and hearts slowly?
What if sudden, forceful changes break us?
I think you know the answer -- we're primed to explode

And I don't
Believe a racist, transphobe will ever love me, or learn me.
And I don't
Believe a word, a turn of phrase, deserves a bullet in the brain.
And I don't
Believe for a second that I'm anything but truly naive.

And I don't
Believe that's bad.
woteva
Bison Apr 2016
Drown out the sound
Frail fingers cupped around fragile ears
The voiceless singing too loud to hear
Sorrow filled songs of the proud

Sightless eyes still search for light
As she wanders through barren fields
Still the salted soil will not flowers yield
Emeralds or diamonds shine too bright

Calm storms whisper ghostly lullabies
As dead weather stirs living men
Dead men search for passion again
Buried too deep to reach blue skies

Ashes to dust
Blanket our frigid hearts
Purpose of mind a fire starts
Consign me not to trust

— The End —