I turn obedience off. I’m living.
You’re inherently powerless, I know now.
It’s not about your muscles, Or your ability to wrestle and slaughter in battles.

It’s the ego that concerns me. The inability to **** ones pride.
I see you chew it, taste it, but never swallow or spit it out.
Is it sweet or bitter I wonder. If it was to be spat out and set on fire, would the product pollute? Yes, it’s poisonous.

Your interrogatives don’t intimidate me,maybe then, not now. A futile raise of your voice at the end of each phrase won’t make me flinch, not once.
you think you’re in complete control, but your voice is faded, it’s
over powered by the ones in my head telling me to
“live my life!”.

I’m sorry I ignored your advice.
Did it hurt your ego? Yes. Good.
Go lick it, feed it. Leave.
I’m fixing the life you almost broke.