I am the light they tried to dim
between cinder block walls
beneath fluorescent lighting.

I am the fire that sharpened
my teeth on your blindness.

I did not come to be your comfort—
I came to disrupt,
to burn your old ways
into ash.

I remember when I first dimmed—
it was not from weakness.
It was because they couldn’t hold my light.

You feared what I made you feel—
exposed, unnerved.

I can no longer be tolerated.
I didn’t come for support—
I came here to blaze.

What is meant for me will follow,
and what is not will burn.

Let them turn away.
Shield your eyes.
For no longer will I whisper—
I will shout.

If they do not choose me,
I will choose myself.

And in doing so—
I will set the sky on fire.