I carried fire in silence,
smoke of memories curling through my chest.
Each shadow I walked through,
I thought I walked alone.
Now a door opens—
a voice leans close in halls of power,
listens to the words I dared to shape,
the law I built for love, for protection, for truth.
I am trembling, not from fear,
but from the weight of being seen.
The past whispers still,
but my fire bends toward the light
of possibility,
of someone hearing,
of someone acting.
This is not just hope—it is proof
that even the smallest voice
can echo in the chambers of change.
And if a child’s life is shaped by it,
it will be built from ashes and courage alike,
from the bones of pain
and the wings I chose to keep.