The culling

There is a silent culling amongst the citizenry.
Social distinction has blackened the hearts of the affluent and the disenfranchised alike.
I have been witness,
the seedy article stripping me of the one thing I value most,
my anonymity.
The ink tipped spear pierces my belly
and I scream as if the whole world has heard my cry.

My many shadows which knew the splendor of solitude
cast into a skewed light
burning,
reproachable
and I wish to bleed

I wish to quell the fire of the world with my blood
This fire we all claim, all of us.

The unsettling feeling of it grown to the point of warmth.

The distinction is ours
paranoid concrete walls that cage on either side

Most would think that removing oneself from the fire
would be an unconscious act,
but like me you have come to know the burning.
You have developed an intimacy with it,
like an abusive lover that makes the ecstasy more desirable.

I do not possess any divinity anymore.
The so called normals want to kill us all
To kill our spirits
don't let them.