How can I do this?

What to say?
Just keep writing.
The first ones suck anyway.

This isn’t an Ars Poética.
This isn’t about a poem.
This is about fear and rage
and a hatred for them.

A whole class of people
dedicated to taking my choice
dedicated to controlling me,
dedicated to stealing my voice.

Bring out the guillotine.
Bring out your dead.
Bring your pitchforks.
We’re after their heads.

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