Damn You.

eduardo-mata-icaza-04.

Wafts of hot air blow across your face.
Cringes.
A drop of sweat under your left eye-brow.
Everyday I wake up and look at the mirror.
Everything is still the same.
Take a gun to your mouth and speak.
Let truth come out.
Play with your tongue, touch the gun.
Make her feel uncomfortable.
Stop shivering.
Stand with pride, head held high.
Choosing your death is only for the ‘privileged’

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