Self-Determination

There is a strange joy
in choosing oneself at last.

It does not arrive softly.
It comes with the taste of iron,
with the sound of something breaking
that was meant to last forever.

Betrayal burns—
not like a flame that flickers,
but like a slow coal
pressed deep inside the ribs.

And loneliness—
a vast, echoing room
where every step reminds you
how empty the world can feel.

But somewhere in the ashes
a harder voice begins to speak:

Enough.

No more shadows bending the truth.
No more hands rearranging reality
until I doubt the ground beneath me.

I gather what is mine—
my breath,
my years,
my stubborn, unbroken will.

This time I leave with open eyes.
This time there is no mercy
for the lies that tried to claim me.

Let the night watch.
Let the world whisper its doubts.

I will not only survive this fire.
I will walk out of it
carrying something brighter—

myself.