I quit school, thumbed a ride, kissed a boy, fucked a few.
Ate your garbage, loved your daughter, stole her heart, and smashed it.
I saw New Orleans, and I saw death, but not at the same time.
I lived and grew, and bled, and hurt. Hunger hurts, but not like you'd expect.
I slept outside: in a tent, under a bridge, in your front yard, though you didn't know it.
I ate your shit, and I ate from my mother's garden. Your shit didn't taste like shit, but it didn't taste like food either.
Sometimes, I want to go back to the lie. The lie is that violence is about violence, not food. The lie is that food is about food, not sex. The lie is that sex is about sex, not money. The lie is that money is about money, not violence. The lie was safe, and warm. Like my mother's womb, but I don't want it. The lie wants nothing more than to give me what I was promised.
This story ends as it always does: And then she was gone.
I retain the copyrights to everything I've ever written. I consider it all fair game for people to use. Note the key word here: People. You know if you're a person or a corporate slave. If you're a person, what I produce is for you to use. Take it, change it, love it, make it yours. If it's important to you, you may credit me, but I don't mind if you don't. If you love the product, and are willing, share it with me, so that I can love it too.
So why do I retain the copyright? Why not let it be free?
Legal notice: All rights are reserved.
If I can come up with a way to damage your corporate masters, I will. When you misuse my work and I figure it out, you have just handed me a weapon. If you get caught in the crossfire, that's a shame. You should have considered that when you signed up to work for the oppressor.