“You cannot”
I am a spark.

“This is not of human nature”
I am a wisp of smoke.

“You should not be this way”
My smoke fills the room.

I disappear.

“You must fit our mold to be accepted”
I am a much brighter spark.

“You are an embarrassment to Society”
A twig captures me.

“We will change you”
I begin to burn.

“We will control you”
I spread across the ground.

“You cannot”
But I can.

“You are ours”
No, I am my own spark, my own smoke, my own fire burning brighter than your greed.

“Your rights are ours to give and to take”
I ignite the walls, the ceiling.

“You must stop. You cannot do this”
But I can.

“We will extinguish you!”
You cannot extinguish what is burning the world, already heating people’s minds, making the edges of their ideas crisp.

“The rebels will die on the ground that holds them!”
But how?
When I am burning everything above and below me?

You may contain me, but you cannot revive what has already been burnt to ashes.