I.
I am a tender thing, and when I am a tender thing, I chew on the fat of my misgivings. Small and jagged like stones, my privileges gather: visible, inconvenient, dangerous. They occupy the corners, the space between each tooth in my wanting mouth, wanting more of the fat, the stuff that lacks nourishment but maintains indecency and ample amounts of tenderness.
II.
I am well-intentioned, but I am not you. I do not know what you face. I do not know the ideas brewing in your brain, the shapes of injustice carrying weight in your own life. I am only a child, a tender thing, chewing on information, breaking my teeth on confrontations, confirmations of my being me, my being white, my being female-born, my being. I am a tender thing, because without missteps, without compassion, I am not myself.
III.
My privileges are also me, pieces of my broken teeth, and everyday, I try not to swallow them.
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tender is the night. i definitely believe u should add Blur's single "Tender" with key lyrics. i can identify with these emotions. we might have weak hearts but our minds are as strong as our memories. i wonder why these slices of angst & bitterness don't receive the attention. i was just informed that there will be an interview with a lady named christina anne. guess who is the featured writer? me. will keep u updated. won't be for a couple of months. as for radio gig, i have a co-host & a program named Abandoned Planet. so excited we are. u will have to listen to us online. hang in there amiga. diligence will pay u forward.
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