What the Fire Left

There was a time

Before the burning

But no one speaks of that now.

Only what came after-

The walking,

The smoke,

The sound of skin forgetting its shape

I was ash.

Not in metaphor-

In memory

I cracked when the wind touched me.

Fell through the hands of those

Who swore they'd hold me

But somewhere

Beneath the black and ruin,

Something small kept pulsing

A spark

A rhythm

A name

That wasn't dead yet

This is what the fire left:

Bone and breath and nothing fake

No promises. No chains

Just hunger and sky and wake

I was not saved

I was not spared

I stayed

And that-

That is the prayer

They call it rebirth

Like it's soft

Like it doesn't scream

But I crawled out

With my hands broken open,

My mouth full of dirt

And the future

I saw the gods

They looked like me-

Tired,

Bleeding,

Beautiful in the way

Only ruins are

This is what the fire left:

Bone and breath and nothing fake

No promises. No chains

Just hunger and sky and wake

I was not saved

I was not spared

I stayed

And that-

That is the prayer

Rebirth isn't light

It's weight

It's the armor you grow

Where the world tried to pierce you

It's the scream you didn't let rot

It's the god you became

When no one else came

So write me in smoke

Crown me in soot

Name me not for what I lost-

But for what I walked through

Burning

And still didn't put down