They don’t need your permission

They don’t need your permission.

It’s not a privilege you mockingly bestow.

It’s not yours, it never was.

It was a self- published lie you told yourself belonged only to you, but only those who were like you ever actually believed it.

It was a title you created and then mocked others for not having.

It was a privilege you withheld, believing others wanted to be like you.

Entitled people always think they are something higher, but really they are to be pitied, for they have not yet begun to know the power in struggle. Have not truly owned their own history. Have no inkling of the chasm of ignorance that grows beneath their feet. They have yet to self- examine. They put off the needed work and surround their gazes with images of themselves repeated until it is all they can see, all they know, all they want to understand. They feel no shame because they have not yet gazed into the dark depths of their own self- loathing. They have yet to confront their own bloated form in the bedroom mirror. Have yet to be horrified by their own twisted ignorance and unacknowledged cruelty.

Oppressed people don’t need permission. The entitled aren’t their superiors. The entitled aren’t even self- aware. Their moral compass is being affected by the magnetic pull of their own painted image. They aren’t even close to the height requirement. The entitled gaze down upon their supposed kingdom like ants unaware that there are worlds above their own.

The oppressed don’t need you to give them what is already theirs.

They have risen through pain, through blood, through endless determination.

They have dawned like sunlight.

They have surpassed and survived through determination, preservation and pride.

They don’t need your permission.

They acknowledge that you need to change, that you need to adjust, adapt, confront within your soul, that which you have thoughtlessly claimed as uniquely yours, but never was…

it never was.

Like a moth you have decided that the light shines for you, only to die never having recognized your own destructive trajectory.

Published by B

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog. I refer to my favorite person as TMW5T Why? because if he had 6 I'd call him TMW6T, duh!!

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