Privileges

I stand here

atop the rubble of a once glorious life

facing death and its gambits

basking in the plethora of ways

that I can sever

the golden thread of my life.

Should I go to the bullets that destroy the faces

of small, brown children

in the corners of the earth

that we never see?

Or maybe the knifes

that rip and tear the clitoris

of some nameless girl

who never got to experience the dissapointment

of not being pleased by a man?

Will I choose the fumes

that burned the lungs

of countless young souls

who fought for dying empires

and broken hopes?

I embrace the selfishness of my privilege

and stand in contempt of life

while I savour the possibility of choosing the means of my end

with all the pettiness of a spoiled princess

who can have everything and chooses nothing

while others fall to the ground

perplexed and confused

wondering why life was snatched from them

by the cruel hands of chance.