#fireinthechest
They call me defensive.
They call me aggressive.
They call me unpredictable.
As if survival is a crime.
As if standing for my truth is hostility.
As if refusing to be small is chaos.
I am defensive because every hand that should have held me hit me instead.
Because every voice that should have loved me spoke betrayal and silence.
I am aggressive because I have fought to breathe when the world pressed me to my last gasp.
Because I have clawed through pain ignored by systems, dismissed by the people who were meant to protect me.
I am unpredictable because trauma does not follow rules, because fire does not stay still. Because I have had to learn to survive in a world that refused to see me.
They see a flash of my anger and call it hostility. They see a wall of defence and call it stubbornness. They see me rise from ashes and call it too much.
I have been a child in care
I have been beaten to my last breath.
I have grown up in a system that could not see the truth because it chose its own story over reality.
I have lived in the cracks of assumptions and survived the spaces they said I could not.
I have carried every failure inflicted on me, every injustice ignored, and I am still here.
So yes, I am defensive.
Yes, I am aggressive.
Yes, I am unpredictable.
But these labels are not the fire in my chest.
They are not the strength in my hands.
They are not the love I carry for my child, nor the loyalty I hold for those who truly saved me.
I am fire.
I am survival.
I am the voice that refused to be silenced.
I am the truth they could not erase.
I am rise.
I am rise.
I am rise.
— Anonymous _Flame 🔥
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 4:52 AM UTC