i am not who i was,
and god, she was lovely
but she bent too much
for hands that never held her.

now, i am flame and focus.
a pulse of purpose.
still soft, still sacred
but no longer available
for smallness.

i shed old versions of myself
like dead skin in spring.
my voice got louder,
my heart got lighter,
and my boundaries
grew teeth.

you’ll meet me now
and think i’ve always been this whole
but wholeness took work,
and she bleeds gold.

i walk with power,
talk with peace,
and burn with the knowing
that becoming
was always the point.