Burning War

Slowly, I walk this path again
a path I’ve traced too many times.
Each step echoes truths I’d rather not face,
whispers of faults I never confessed,
locked away in emotional betrayal.
I laugh it off...
But what’s the point,
when the fire keeps swallowing me whole?

The scars etched in my celestial heart
are constant reminders of shame
a shame with no clear beginning, no known cause.
Was I a fool?
A puppet believing their soft lies
“It’s alright,” they said.
So I let go...
and drowned in the flames.

From the moment she gave me life,
I became the curse
my own undoing.
Alone in the shadows,
far from light,
draped in the lies, I told myself.
Is the truth really as terrifying as they say?

Alive in misery and shame.
Dead in joy and dignity.
A mistake from the very start.
If I were born a Disney princess,
maybe this would be a simple curse,
waiting for a magic fix.
But that’s just fantasy
a sweet, unreachable dream.

I want to hide the pain,
to silence the cruel voices,
to erase the shame burned into my skin
and walk the world like I was just born again.
But the truth
it clings to me.
It follows me.
And with each breath,
it turns my heart into ash.

Yet still, I walk.

Not because I’m healed,
not because I’m whole
but because I’m still here.
Even burned,
even broken,
something within me refuses to die.

This war inside
these flames that rage
they may have scorched my past,
but they’ve also lit the path I walk.

One trembling step at a time,
I carry the ashes of who I was
not as shame,
but as proof that I survived.

And maybe that’s enough...
for now.