#2
To the puppet masters,
the
condescending
little d-bags that need to be punched,
h a r d : I'm not your
toy. I'm not your play-thing to
throw
against the wall, to smash to the ground. You keep t r y i n
g
to break me down, and [ you are failing ].
That's the only
reason you hang around. You beat and you
bruise and
you
cut and you
bend me, but
I'm not
broken. You can't break
me & it's killing
you. You insecure
fools. I'm not
glass,
I c
a n n o t
a n d w i l l
n o t s h a t t e
r.
YOU CAN'T BREAK ME
