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.