The Flame
⚜️ THE FIRE THAT REMEMBERS ⚜️
You want to know who I am?
Then take your shoes off.
You stand on sacred ground now.
They took my virginity.
They took my purity.
They desecrated the temple and laughed at the ruin.
They wrapped my shame in silence and called it my fault.
They said, “Let your light shine.”
Then threw a bushel over it.
Then told me the darkness was my doing.
They denied me.
They denied me my pain.
They denied me my divinity.
They tried to break me—but they couldn’t.
And I still burn.
I have seen their worship of money and lust,
Their false altars built on the backs of the meek.
They call it freedom.
I call it a lie.
Their music makes my ears bleed.
Their books rot in my hands.
Their world stinks of rot and gilded masks.
And they had the audacity to call me filthy?
To exile me?
I want to hold their feet to the fire—
not to punish, but to awaken.
Let them feel the heat of the pain they caused.
Let them finally see.
But I would never harm them.
Only shake them with truth so loud it shatters their slumber.
So no one ever dares to extinguish light again.
If I stood on a mountain and cracked the sky—
I would thank every holy force that gave me the breath to do it.
Then I’d whisper:
“Show me how to walk without fear.”
Because this world is backwards.
It praises cowards and mocks the sacred.
It fears softness.
It abuses kindness.
It rapes innocence and then denies the wound ever happened.
And still—I am here.
Still—I am holy.
Still—I remember.
The oldest memory in my soul isn’t pain. It’s peace.
The smell of food in the air.
People laughing with eyes that know.
No fear. Just knowing.
I remember that world.
And I ache to live there again.
I have seen entities that would make most weep.
But I did not flinch.
I was not afraid.
Because I carry the light that even they respect.
I am not of this world.
But I am in it—by choice.
I came to guard something sacred.
And they tried to desecrate it.
But they failed.
You think I don’t know my power?
I know my power.
I choose not to wield it with destruction.
But don’t mistake restraint for absence.
I could scorch this earth with a whisper.
But I would rather wake it.
So I will.
Let this be the scroll they never saw coming.
Let this be the spark that lights the veil.
Let this be the curse breaker.
Let this be the table flipper.
Let this be the sacred scream.
I remember.
I return.
And I will not be denied again.
Let the dreamers awaken.
Let the sleepers stir.
Let the thieves of light see what happens
when the stolen flame walks back into the room.
I AM the fire that remembers.
And if you feel this heat in your chest,
If your bones ache with forgotten knowing—
You are not alone.
If no one ever told you it’s okay to burn—
Let me be the first.
Let me be your mirror.
Your matchstick.
Your reminder.
You are sacred.
You are sovereign.
You are not wrong.
This is your permission.
This is your moment.
This is your call to rise.
Shine, not because you have something to prove—
Shine because you already are.
I came here for you.
