Inviolable

They circle,

waiting for me to stumble,

to bleed just enough for them to feed.

Vultures dressed like saints,

pretending their venom is virtue,

their envy hidden behind polite smiles.

They pick at the edges of my name,

twist pieces of my story into fragments

they can pass around like gossip.

They call it truth,

but I know better 

I’ve seen what rots beneath their polish.

They live off scraps of other people’s pain

because they’ve never built anything of their own.

I carry my fire in my chest,

while they hold nothing but ash in their hands.

They think their words will shatter me,

but I’ve walked through rooms

where silence weighed heavier than stone

and came out breathing.

They mistake my steady light for something gifted,

like I woke up one morning and rose,

untouched, unscarred.

What they never see

are the nights I burned alone,

piecing myself back together

from shards sharp enough to cut bone.

I rebuilt this body,

this voice,

this spirit

with blood in my mouth

and grit under my nails.

There is no privilege here..

there is survival,

earned the hard way,

and no one gets to erase that.

I hear their whispers,

their sideways comments,

their digs delivered with sugar on their tongues.

I know how badly they want me small,

how desperately they want me quiet,

how their envy scratches at their throats

when they realize I will never lower myself

to crawl where they’re comfortable.

I don’t respond

because I don’t need to.

Their bitterness doesn’t move me.

Their claws don’t reach me.

They can’t break what they never built.

This is an everchanging world,

and I’ve fought too hard

to hand my peace over to anyone

who hasn’t proven they deserve it.

I’ve earned the right

to be selective about my space,

to demand more than empty words

and hollow promises.

If you want a place in my life,

you bring action,

not noise.

You take all of me..

the fire, the scars, the jagged edges,

the light I carved with my own hands.

You don’t get to pick what fits your comfort

and discard the rest.

And to those

who want to rip me apart

because I don’t sound like them,

look like them,

or sink into their shallow games 

sorry to disappoint.

I am not here to soften myself

to soothe anyone else’s insecurity.

I am not here to blend in

or be made small enough to swallow.

Their gossip isn’t a weapon.

Their envy isn’t a threat.

I am not theirs to define,

and I am sure not theirs to break.

I don’t need their validation.

I don’t need their applause.

I built this light in places

they would have been crushed.

I don’t bow to their pettiness,

and I don’t answer to their chaos.

My boundaries are not suggestions 

they are survival,

drawn from bone and fire,

proof of what I refuse to lose again.

I won’t lower myself to their level,

because where I’m going

requires sky,

not cages.

I am not drowning in my past.

I am using it.

I am building from it.

I am carving myself into someone

too solid to be shaken,

too loud to be silenced,

too unyielding to be swallowed whole.

If they want to move mountains with me,

they better bring more than talk.

Because words don’t move me.

Actions do.

Proven, steady, relentless action.

And if they can’t bring that

they can stay where they are,

feeding on scraps

while I keep setting the ground on fire

beneath my own two feet.