It’s like staring into that goddamn killer’s camera, lens locked, heartbeat pounding, every second dragging like it’s holding me hostage. I miss you bad enough to taste it in the back of my throat. So hurry the fuck up before I lose my mind. #killers
You didn’t build me.
You drained me.
You wrapped God in a business plan, sold salvation by the seat, and called it a calling.
You dressed trauma in khakis and called it leadership.
You made boys march like soldiers and girls pray for husbands,
then fed us to the altar of your ego.
And still, you smile in documentaries like you gave us something noble.
No, man.
You didn’t give us a voice.
You stole it.
And some of us are just now finding it again—
not through you,
but in spite of you.
We were your foot soldiers.
Now we’re your reckoning.
