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#othering
behind my eyes and in my boots i feel the earth below familiar colors envelope these trees I've come to know a man stands in the forest he is from a stranger land he wears no boots, but sandals he knows no earth, but sand he finds no comfort in these colors no relief in the sounds he's from a stranger land yet his fire abounds i look away in shame searching for some grace i was always taught not to look upon his face the face of struggle of taint and pain of woeful perplexity don't look upon the face of other i was always told and if you do, beware you might just see his soul or much worse yet lest you forget ... you might just see yourself
0
May 4, 2019
May 4, 2019 at 11:06 PM UTC
other
And the monstering comes to this the result of the ignorant taking the **** 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
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Mar 20, 2014
Mar 20, 2014 at 11:04 AM UTC
For Lucy Meadows