Equal Nothings, Equals Nothing

You speak of equality

like you're a fucking prophet.

You want equality?

Let’s start by stripping you naked —

of every privilege stitched into your skin

like birthright was merit

and comfort was consequence.

Let’s peel off

your education, inheritance,

your assumed greatness 

in your unnecessary last name

and the obnoxious accent you throw around

in your vail attempts of holding stead 

in an invisible societal high ground.

You want equality?

Let’s begin with your hypocrisies.

The way you pedestal your parents

while decoding your trauma

in therapy receipts.

The family tree you frame on walls

but prune of its cruelty.

Let’s talk about legacy —

the autocracy you choose to call tradition.

You want equality?

Let logic and reason be the only currencies.

Don’t shove paper wealth down my throat

while I collect my pay

in clinking change

and swallowed rage.

You want equality?

Then words must be our only weapon.

But don’t stand in court

as the defendant

when the judge, the jury,

and the executioner

all sign your paychecks.

You want equality?

Then don’t hold me at gunpoint

and ask me to speak softer.

Don’t start as god

and ask me to pray louder.

Don’t chain me to history

and call it culture.

Don’t name your privilege peace

and call my defiance war.

You want equality?

Then don’t give me a mic

in a world you’ve already muted.

Don’t hand me rights

wrapped in choices

with expiry dates.

You want equality?

Let’s start

as equal nothings.

No gods.

No gold.

No guilt.

Just two throats,

same volume.

Same stage,

same storm.

And if we burn —

we burn the whole fucking throne.

Together.

Until then, equality is an abomination

You can't draw straight lines with crooked spirals.