Ready to Die

Ready to Die

Your body belongs to you,
and mine belongs to me.
It is not my place to command your steps,
your voice,
your becoming.

In the same breath,
I am done allowing the world to rule mine.

You have chosen your path, 
your actions echo the shape of your heart.
And so will mine.

For too long,
I have clawed at the walls of my own making,
scraping at the bottom,
fighting to breathe in a place that calls itself life
but reeks of death.

I have watched my neighbors devour one another,
climb over broken backs
for the crumbs that fall
from the tables of swine.

I am ready to die.

Not in body,
but in the self that bows to fear,
that trades its light for approval,
its truth for comfort.

There is no life in that living.
Only sorrow.

I will not kneel for love that costs my dignity,
nor barter my soul
for the illusion of safety, health, or wealth.

For these are already within me.

Why should I sell what is sacred?
Why should I betray my neighbor for bread
when the feast was meant for us all?

I refuse.

I am ready to die, 
so that I may finally live.