More brothers and sisters join the hundreds, the thousands, the millions. They gather, gather at the gates.
The chains became knives
became ropes
became guns
became bars
became fists
became bullets
became another statistic that tells us every 8 hours another brother or sister will gather at the gate.
So many gone. So many taken.
So many. Too many.
I am afraid for my brothers.
I am afraid for my sisters.
I am afraid of my country.
I cannot move.
I am paralyzed.
I want to save them. I want to save us. I want to wake up and be unafraid. But every time I wake, another brother, another sister, gathers at the gate. Every time I wake, the void consumes without restraint.
Every time I wake.

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