Tools of violence

Identity violence

Symbolic violence

Communication violence

Historic violence

Revisionist violence

Repetitive violence

Infantilising violence

Nostalgic violence

Communication violence

Prejudiced violence

Tiring violence

Destructive violence

Sexual violence

Gendered violence

Religious violence

Spiritual violence

Class violence

Linguistic violence

Colourist violence

Male violence

White male violence

Co-opting violence

Toxic violence

Co-opted toxic violence

Ideological violence

Paternalistic violence

Patriarchal violence

Symbolically patriarchal violence

Promotional violence

Just violence

Violence violence

Tiring violence

Too tired coz I’m broken and it’s the result of all the above and more violence

Mental violence

Inferred violence

Implicit violence

Bright-eyed violence

Broken souls violence

The once you had bright eyes but then you got co-opted and are stuck but still need peeps and I get it but don’t you get that I get it, so why you gotta erase the stuff we excavate and stop us entering and flinging open the doors-no revision check, not open the doors break all these fracking symbolic capitalistic colonial walls – so that we can all evolve together and your tired eyes can weep and rejoice in celebration with us all, bold beautiful and brave and bound to the forward March of completing our shared ancestors abolitionist principles and journeys to create a new fair fresh deprogrammed society so we keep being we and us, and you and me, happy and free together… urgh! Gah! For f***! *sigh* but you can’t and that’s violent, violence.

So instead here we stand. Ina pyramid and I keep trying to educate and create and collate and collaborate while we survive and you thrive but I don’t even cry coz I’m proud inside that at least someone who got one part of our ancestral spirit souls good side to the table where it’s all about whose there to dine, and whose outside… not about our fellow people who die and are also pushed towards pipelines to die. Whether quickly or slowly, that’s for us all to see with our eyes.

I’m too tired to speak, so I’ll leave it to that… and sleeps for the night.

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I am a woman. You are bright.

There’s nothing worse than realising you were the lone creator of shared memories.

Left with a box of fucked up, rotten, festering dreams as your chosen partner turns and flees.

I am a woman. You are bright.

I am attracted to your flame,
Like a dampened moth I search
Through dark duskened daily revolving nights.
You were that intoxicating light,
That had me captured, dancing a lonely sight,
As I played to our hearts’ delight.
Thinking that when you flamed,
You mirrored an external burning,
a deep heat for me,
one I stupidly saw as a gifted,
for our entwined hearts to pursue.

A Gentle Lingering

A Gentle Lingering

Your gentle words make me cry,
But there’s no-one here to dry these eyes,

Your gentle hands type their byes,
But aren’t here to quieten my sighs.

Your gentle words make me cry,
But your not here to dry my eyes.

You didn’t have to be a mess,
I didn’t have to keep applying such stress,

You could’ve helped us suffer less,
I didn’t have to resort to states of undress.

You didn’t have to make this mess,
I share a greater blame, I must I confess.

I still see you opening the door,
I think we long to enjoy it some more,
But are stuck being chained bores,
Stuck in winning only at repetitive plays of score.

We didn’t have to fuck this up,
I shouldn’t have told you why it all sucked,
Roasting our burns and opening our scars,
Allowing our love to be burn and cooked.

Why didn’t your words come out?
Why didn’t your rail and shout?
Why is passion and rage a hidden simmering sight?
Why could you not have put up a fight?

Your gentleness lingers and makes me weep,
My worded passions will forever run deep,

Your emotions play half bright at best,
I hope that God allows me to pass this test.

Your gentle words make me cry.

But you won’t return to dry these eyes;
kiss my lips;
lay in unwedded bliss;

help us move on,
together as one,
forever at home,
within each other’s arms,

forgetting all of this shit.

Days Drag On… What do I find on my phone?

Crazy long day – feel dead and drained and I’m in no way prepared for the mess that will be tomorrow. MA class (not done my reading!) then shifts in another store, as part of my new job! The need to keep balancing between love of learning and money to keep learning, is a hard journey to navigate through.

Sorry for rant. I’m just going to keep it sweet by posting some stuff I re-(discovered) on my phone. Not what I’m feeling right now, but I’m slowing getting over the emotions, anxiety and people-pleasing tendencies that kept me from sharing my words. 

 

Title: Couplet (date: 06.10.15)

I love you, but I love me more,
in reality; its a falsified bore.

How can anyone be without another,
One will always live as Cartesian succour.

 

Title: Leaving. Learning. Life. Losing? (date: 28.09.15)

Emotional. Weeping This day
hits me. Travelling waiting my
breath deceives me. Sick of
this sickness that  ails me. Sick
and… Tired of the wishing and
wanting that is snatched from
me. Backward facing travel in a
glittering life. How much
longer will u/I hide?

Tired of the wanting that is snatched from me.
Wishing against wishes that hopes weren’t constant dreams.