Poem: The News About "Radical" Activism

The pain being directed at someone who is wounded,
They have expected a perfect angel,
Able to take all the daggers,
Knives being jabbed into her,
They want her to just be spirit,
Detached from her body,
Take the burden of pain from all,
Not human,
She is here to heal,
For them,
In service,

"Radical" activism can be just as hurtful,
Labeled as a "radical women of color,"
But given a bucket full of towels,
And told to clean,
Standing next to other women of color,
But limited,
Treated as a third class citizen,
Below second,

"Radical" activism,
Same as any colonizer,
Same as a bible thumper,
Same as as a bigoted conservative Republican,
Same as a priest telling the woman she is born into sin,
Same as a misogynistic patriarchal male,
Radical women of color,
Look at yourselves,
You delve,
And dive,
Create and divide,
The same way of what you fight against,

Your radically hurtful towards sensitive souls,
Healer types,
Hermits,
Wayfaring strangers,
Lone wolves,

The American Indian might walk by you,
You might want to use us as a token for a book cover,
Or appropriate our teachings,
And in the beginning of your speech,
Say,
"The American Indian is..."

The American Indian woman might walk by you,
You might not even care,
She is at the bottom,
Way bottom of the barrel,
Have you seen her soul,
By looking at her eyes,
At her heart,
Which is wounded,
A heart which is black,
The line for the repair shop of our hearts is long,
We aren't in front,
They shop owners haven't even ordered the parts for shipment,

Don't you understand,
You're radically hurtful,
You have radically hurt,
You have sidestepped and trampled us,
The invisible minority,

And you have absolutely nothing to say about it.