I used to think my love was unconditional
then Genocide and Apartheid walked in and showed me where my limit is.
The action of love is large.
It is compassion.
It is empathy.
It is patience.
It is understanding.
It is care.
But…
There are some necessary limits.
if not limits to love, limits to access
My compassion extends to those most in suffering.
I can empathize with the paralysis that comes from analysis so long as inaction does not become your crime
I patiently hold space for your revelations as they occur on human time
while sitting in the reality that your human time might cause you to miss the boat with me
I understand that the hurt you give is unintended;
it hurts no less sitting in the reality that you might not “see the signs” if they start to bay for the blood of my kind next.
I care only enough to not leave you with the taste of my disappointment, disgust, and anger,
but I will leave in silence as the ocean between us grows vaster.
I cannot abide by willful ignorance, the cause of which is chasing convenience
the truth is never convenient.
It sits there, holding a brick, forever waiting to smash the rose-tinted glass of comfortable perception
it is an arrow shot, tip laced with the poison of truth.
Once you have been hit you can’t unsee it.
The Truth comes to us all
be it before the bloodshed
during the acts of violence
or years later in the neat letters in history books that outline how exactly a society that said “never again” could stand aside and let the same hate and entitlement decimate a people, again.
One day you might learn
when you turn around to tell me of your revelation, I might not be there
when you have discovered what was always there, I hope it’s not too late.
Listen to The Limit? on Soundcloud.
Caia Rose 