As with many things, this has stewed within for quite a while. It’s not pretty and I’m giving myself permission to let it be not pretty.
Because I am angry. Not just a little annoyed. Not just a bit pissed off. Genuinely, “Get the @#&% out of my way” angry…
Angry about oppression
Angry about genocide
Angry about the patriarchy and systems
Angry about the loss, the mistreatment, the misogyny, the narcissism and the backstabbing
Angry about the willful blindness, stupidity and cloak of omission
No… the cloak is of ignorance, willfully draped around shoulders too weak or unwilling to carry the weight of grief and pain borne by others
Angry for the lost, the dead, the missing and murdered
Angry for the misplaced, misunderstood and dismissed
Angry about the wars, the hunting, the slaughter
Angry about the putdowns, the hands to the face and the throttling of voices
Voices of the small, the wounded, the women and the queer
Voices of the different and the longing
Angry about the manipulation of scripture in the past
Angry that it continues
Angry that we let it
That we allow our hands to be tied and our voices to be silenced
Because it’s easier that way
Because we’ve been trained that way
Angry that we abdicate responsibility because the light is too hard on our eyes
The truth too hard on our hearts
Angry that we believe the lies
Lies that we are incapable
Lies that we are weak
Lies that we are wrong
Angry for the lies we are told
Angry for the lies we tell ourselves
When will it stop?
When will we stand?