No premature coffin for me, thanks.

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I should have stayed in my own world and

Not blend in and disintegrate in yours where all

The magic comes to an end, where dreams are mere

Thoughts with yesterday’s glitter stripped of weight and motion.

 

I was told that the dust that made you sick was the normality

That everybody had to confine themselves to. That there were

No options, everybody just ran out and believed how small they said they were.

I was a giant as a small girl but you wanted me to fit in your pocket.

 

Who told you to give yourself away whilst you had everything to give?

Why did they prefer a yawning and moping automaton bound to a

Silly routine over the best version of yourself, undeformed, free-versed,

Unlimited, not broken down by their traditional life-killing regiments?

 

I grew up in ever-rotating wonder worlds, I lived and breathed

Grasslands and mud and climbed trees to demonstrate how much

I was a part of everything that grows in its own natural way.

There were a million ways  in one single street, no end in sight, not in

My mind. They took the fire not to spread warmth and passion, but to quench it.

 

What they called “socialising” was an act of intoxicating conformity,

Teaching was indoctrinating to make me fit in, reduce my dreams in size,

Erecting horizons and borders and benefit a system that I never trusted nor

Believed in. I saw the older people in my neighbourhood, sitting on their

Rotten wealth, in a time and space in their lives where they should have had

The most to offer and give, but they buried themselves instead, retired from life

And waiting bitterly for death.

They gorged on the societal pill of insignificance,

Swallowed and choked on the big fat lie that threw ideals and love away.

I didn’t want a piece of this blood-cake.

 

The drained idea that they bought made them dumber the older they got.

Narrating life backwards, resisting the present, dreading the future.

The young set against the old. I only knew in my bones that I never wanted

To end up like that. Resigned. Lifeless. Staring into the everyday void.

Be emptied by anonymous governmental criminals with all their crippling rules.

 

Weigh my soul in money that I never had. Fuck them, it’s invaluable.

I won’t contribute what burns within me to their old dysfunctional ways.

Their wealth is undeserving of what I have to give. Built on the submission

And comfort-addiction of the zombies in my street. They stole lives rendering

Entire generations blind and lazy.

 

Tying the pulse within my body to banks and debt and dead alleys.

Dissolve like teachers repeating the same old things every single year.

Bowing to sociopaths stuck in cowardice telling me that I’m nothing.

Listening to poor-minded bullies on power trips with excessive salaries.

Clowns in uniforms, hot air in their rigid brains, shredded kites for hearts.

Stay away from me. They won’t make me buy this coffin-lifestyle.

 

Trying to sell me an apple with worms. I can see the consequences in

Your face. Money is the captain of their lives, the first class priority.

Everything else is forgotten. School deforms, depreciates, deracinates.

One mind just like the other, head down, spineless and cosy. A good soldier

Of the system. Neither life nor death matters, all they want is use you for their

Privileges and mountains of bloodshed-gold.

close up photo of woman holding lollipop
Photo by VisionPic .net on Pexels.com

 

 

 

 

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