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.