Untitled first draft

I have learned too well
what is acceptable--
what is good and right.
I have learned so well
that I police myself.
Nothing muzzles quite so well
as a tongue afraid to move.
Nothing bounds so tightly
as an uncertain self.

I know all the words to say.
I can turn a phrase,
sprint a rebel word run
that will have your mind
meditating on freedom.
I can sing a song that will incite
a riot. I can do all those things for you,
but not for me.
When we all go our separate ways,
and the picket signs are scattered
in the streets like so many bodies.
I count myself a casualty—
the living dead.