Confict

I was not made for the life
Of the collective,
Though I am a collective
Life. I was not made

For the days I surrender
To the sensible and sane
Acts of cooperation
That keep me out of prison,

If not out of debt,
That pay the rent. I was not
Made to hide in a pronoun

Like me. I am my freed time.
It may only be
A day—but it’s mine.