They call us enemies of the state.
And they mean it as an insult.
But if the “state” is what we have now—then you’re goddamn right we are.
Because this isn’t the state of a republic anymore. It’s the bloated corpse of one, animated by flags, slogans, and the paranoid dreams of a man-child tyrant who calls himself president. Donald Trump has turned the machinery of government into a battering ram—targeting immigrants, silencing critics, coddling white supremacists, and waving the Constitution he just pissed on.
And if resisting that makes us enemies?
Then write it down in ink. Etch it into stone.
We are enemies of this state. With pride.
The term “enemy of the state” once conjured images of spies, traitors, saboteurs. But today? All it takes to earn that label is refusing to kneel.
Refusing to smile when ICE drags families from their homes.
Refusing to salute when Trump praises the Houthis for killing our soldiers.
Refusing to stand still when the president claims a hoax genocide of white farmers while denying safe harbor to actual refugees of color.
This isn’t law and order. This is loyalty testing.
This is dictatorship-by-brand.
This is McCarthyism in high def with worse grammar.
Every tyrant needs a villain. And in Trump’s America, it’s you. It’s anyone who still believes in truth, in compassion, in accountability.
It’s teachers who assign banned books.
It’s journalists who report facts.
It’s activists who won’t sit down.
It’s mothers who speak out.
It’s veterans who say, “I fought for this country, not for that man.”
And so be it.
Let them call us radicals.
Let them surveil our posts and blacklist our names.
Let them brand us with the title they think will shame us.
We will wear “enemy of the state” like a medal.
Because when the state tramples the people, defies its founding ideals, and replaces truth with spectacle—being its enemy is the only moral position left.
Let history show that some of us stood up.
That some of us didn’t smile when the walls went up and the books came down.
That some of us understood that silence wasn’t safety—it was complicity.
And if that means exile from their America?
Then let the bastards exile us.
We’ll build something better in the ashes.