shattered
skin split wide,
ribs cracked open
under the heel of time,
bleeding ink, bleeding light,
bones humming verses,
but you
still breathing.
still fighting.
still rising.

have you ever seen
a mountain bend, a river fall
or a storm cry out in surrender?
no
you’ve never seen it,
and neither have I.

ruined, they call me.
lost, they say,
you’re nothing but dust, broken glass, wreckage
they do not know
I am fire.

I was made to burn
and this ash?
it remembers
the fire does not forget.

I’ve knelt, but never bowed
I’ve broken,
but never stayed shattered
no, not me.

I am the flood that swallows the earth,
the sky that splits wide open,
the dawn that still returns
after the darkest nights
wrap their fingers around my throat.

and you,
you too,
hide that flame behind your teeth,
clutch it in your chest,
press it down until it burns
hotter than any hell.
I know you.

I see the weight you carry,
the weight of years
spent in the shadow of fear,
drowning in the silence that cuts
like a razor’s edge.
but I see you
standing
still standing.

You’re not lost.
Not ruined.
Not broken.
You are still breathing, still fighting, still alive.

Rise
rise like the earth that breaks beneath you,
rise like the phoenix,
the storm that burns away the sky,
rise like every shattered piece
that once was you
but never will be again.

This world does not know you yet,
but it will
it will know the fire in your bones,
the thunder in your chest,
the way you burn everything in your path,
and still, still, you rise.

You. Rise.
Like the storm.
Like the flame.