An Open Letter From the Fire I Became

I’m not writing to reopen pain,
Not here to curse, not here to blame.
I’ve walked through fire, danced in rain,
And come out free, without your name.

I don’t need answers, don’t need why,
Don’t need the tears you never cried.
I used to ache for you to see,
But now I only fight for me.

There was a time I begged to stay,
Bent all my colors into grey.
But now I bloom in louder hues,
In softer golds, in deeper blues.

You thought I’d break, that I’d regret,
But love, I’m not your silhouette.
I found my light beyond your hold,
In silent strength, in stories bold.

I craved a love that didn’t sting,
That let me laugh, that let me sing.
And though you claimed I wasn’t enough,
I learned I’m made of tougher stuff.

So keep your silence, keep your pride,
I’ve nothing left I need to hide.
My scars are threads in tapestries
You’ll never own, you’ll never see.

I’m not your loss, I’m not your shame,
I’m not the ghost you try to name.
I’m not the girl who begged to be,
I’m the woman born from setting me free.

I speak in rhythm, walk in grace,
With fire behind my quiet face.
Not yours to fix, not yours to save,
I dug my way out of the grave.

So hear me now, not in defeat,
But in the rise beneath my feet.
I loved, I lost, I lit my spark,
And I’m the flame that left the dark.

Not bitter, no. Not out for war.
Just done, just healed, just needing more.
I send no hate, I send no plea,
Just truth:
You’ll never ever again have me.

by Heer Alvi