Still burning

I am not a wildfire.

I was never meant to be loud.

I don’t tear through forests

or announce myself to the sky.

I exist in inches.

In seconds.

In the space between breath and doubt.

The world rushes past me—

heavy footsteps,

shadows leaning in,

air that presses too close.

And still,

I stay.

My flame bends.

My edge softens.

My body heats and scars

and darkens at the top—

but the center holds.

I do not need to be endless

to be real.

I do not need to blaze

to matter.

I flicker.

I hesitate.

I waver.

And I remain.

taytay209

IN

13 years old

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