الصوت المشترك

They’re laughing again. Always laughing. Phones out. Recording. Zooming in on my stomach. My face. My existence. “Move, pig.” One push. I hit the ground. Hard. Food spills everywhere. Cheap lunch. All I could afford. Gone. Just like my dignity. I don’t fight back. I never do. Because in this world. Strength isn’t earned. It’s given. And I was given nothing. No looks. No talent. No power. Just weight. And silence. A foot presses on my back. Grinding me into the floor.