Thursday, February 14, 2013

Washed Away

I am shore pounded and drained.  grating sand against sand, I stand in the way.  I am polished and smoothed, re-broken  redefined.  I am warn with in words new definitions new reasons for my, revoked opinion   I am given my rights, inalienably alienated.  I am as common as the grains of grit timeless as a momentary wave.  I am pushed and pulled within the tide, invited to converse and censored into despair.  I am a torrent unstoppable outlasted to the placid apathy of a ripple.

I am tired of redefined words to use in proper racisims, Indian  native, first nation, the proper way to define the space between us and them in a way that does not defile me in becoming a them from the socially sensitive and enlightened us.

I am tossed in the sea of another's feelings given no right to a sailors prayer.  I am fenced by the ever changing and intangible while the air around me, tangible, is ever threatened.

I am ever aware of myself on display, and yet caught screaming and hear all the less.  I am fast found ever at fault. My questions are judgments and my own actions accusations I am cut to the quick and at blame for bleeding  Wounds washed and drained into a sea that can hold all my blood without at drop of red color.  Swallowed by a blue that speaks none of its thousand sorrow swallowed in the deep.

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