this is not Life.
this is not living.
sitting on bated breath and awaiting permission
to exhale, to inhale,
to be tossed bits and scraps of your dignity
like wretched meat tossed to broken dogs.
there is no truth in such an existence.
they starve you and try to
refeed you with lies until
your willpower grows anorexic.
it is something unnatural, manufactured
by the hands of destructive men
an affront to a balanced Universe
whose laws dictate that
law and order and justice
you need to
shoot into someone.
it's the fabric of conscious oneness that says
i am i and you am i, as well
i refuse to put my knee on your neck
i won't be able to