The discomfit of being Told…

It is like

an omnipresent effort

being a pawn

in a game –

of humanity being

consistently

inconsistent.

That skin

that won’t bend –

subjected to the duality

of avoiding

consecutive blows

targeted to concurrently impact

the body and soul.

If it makes you

uncomfortable

hearing about it –

imagine the cruel irony

of having to

go through it?

Live it

Taste it.

Feel it.

Hear it.

Be seen.

Not heard.

Told.

To get over it.

Told.

That it is okay

while the acidity

of not having

to know –

ferments into the

pungent swill of ignorance

only to eat

away at the foundation.

Extrapolate that over

the course of a lifetime.

Those raging rapids

of otherness

clashing against

colossus of invective

in waters that

won’t be stilled.

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