I'm trained to say,
"Other people have it worse,"
When I'm hurt,
When I'm hurting,
When my jaw and eyes are burning.
My concerns are unconcerning,
And that's how it's s'posed to be
'Cause
I'm the one
Who's supposed to take the hits
To break their fists against my ribs,
This brick house bitch won't even flinch,
Because I can tank it.
It's what I'm good for.
Knowing
They have it worse—
And they do!
My privilege is obvious.
I'm white and cis-assumed,
Educated, too, if you'd believe it;
Eight years post-secondary:
Computers, psychology, psychometry;
Plenty of letters to follow me.
"So why are you working here?"
'Cause I'm queer, disabled,
And a threat, says the right:
A mad leftist bitch who thinks Bernie leans right.
I can't be promoted,
'Cause I'm not a class traitor.
I don't work for the man;
I work for my neighbors.
My coworkers, bitches out here and we all busting ass,
Chasing money we earned but sure as hell we ain't passed.
And they have it worse,
So I keep my head down
And don't relay the rough times.
Why would they need more?
Another burden, unearned;
Why add another?
You see them hurting,
This heartless world tearing hearts out
To keep the beating coming.
So I carry on,
Carrying on,
Till carrion is all that's left of me.
And that's what the system wants:
Burned out bitches it bumps
Off the edge of life.
'Cause if it can't kill them,
Maybe it can kill her fight,
Winning that half of the battle.