“Alchemy of Me”

I was a question mark.

A whisper in my own room.

A shadow that blinked at the ceiling,

wondering if light would ever notice me.

I cried in Morse code.

Dot. Dash. Dot.

Hoping someone would translate my pain,

but the only one listening was fear…

and it kept passing notes:

You are not enough. Not smart. Not worthy. Not here.

And then—

a small voice slipped through the cracks of my doubt:

What will you do with this life, Vi?

I looked at my hands.

These hands had folded under shame,

but they had also held secrets,

tucked hope into pockets,

and yes… occasionally grabbed cookies.

I answered, trembling:

I will not wish. I will become.

Courage arrived like an impatient train,

slamming into my chest,

shaking loose old thoughts,

derailing self-doubt at every stop.

Purpose tapped me on the shoulder.

Not politely.

Not softly.

It shoved me onto my feet and said:

You’ve been quiet too long. Speak.

And so I speak:

I am more than the fear that labeled me.

I am more than the nights I cried alone.

I am more than the walls I built to hide.

“I rise!”

“I rise!”

I rise through the smoke of my old habits.

I rise through the static of shame.

I rise, carrying laughter like a shield,

joy like armor,

and yes… cookies for fuel.

I do not wish.

I do not beg.

I do not wait.

I become.

I am the alchemy of my own making.

Fear turns to fire.

Pain turns to purpose.

And I…

I always become more.