that small, stifling, ISOLATING, cold, numb and silent space.

A space that places extreme limits upon my soul and rips me from the innocent sacredness,

and worth of my experience, forcing me to see myself and others through the narrow, deceptive eyes of our culture.

Here is where compliance, hatred, self-loathing, comparison, confusion, self-measurement

and the denial of my bold, wise, soul truth lives and thrives.

Coming to see myself through my own eyes continues to take a type of grit that beacons me to stay with myself,

standing by my own side long enough that eventually the sacred and innocent truth of my existence

can become audible. It is a different sound, one that I continue to attune to...

It is a collective CALL and CRY

Back Home.

Naomi Irons

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