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Culture Poetry

I Did Not Consent to Exist (poem)

I did not consent to exist.

Every breathe I take is a reminder that my consent was violated.
Every time the hair raises on my skin, it’s a reminder that I do not deserve it.
Every time I feel something, it reminds me that I did not consent to this.

To any of this. I did not consent to this.

Every day that I am alive is a day that I am in despair.
I feel like I am being crushed by the pain of existence
I just want to be free.
But for now, I have my meat prison and our language that confines our expression.

All I can do is breathe and live and accept my condition.
We all love to make excuses for abusers.

i-did-not-consent-to-exist-poem

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