Daughters of The Storm & Sky

They built their world on the hush of women,

wove silence into their throats,

called them windless, weightless,

taught them to swallow their own names like stones.

But the sky does not beg to hold the stars.

The sea does not ask before it roars.

No soul carved from wildfire

was ever meant to be caged.

You were born from the breath of lightning,

veins woven with the pulse of hurricanes.

Your bones hum with the memory of tempests,

your hands know the language of fire.

They will tell you to be softer.

To fold your thunder into something quiet.

To break yourself down into something they can carry.

But listen—

you are the storm that swallowed the ships,

the tide that would not turn back.

You are the crack in the sky before the heavens break open,

the silver flash that splits the dark like prophecy.

They will try to name you ruin.

They will try to name you wild.

Wear it.

Wear it like the moon wears the tide,

like the stars wear the night.

Wear it like a crown carved from the bones of the earth.

Because you were never meant to kneel.

You were never meant to dim.

You were forged in fire and flood,

storm-born, sky-blooded, unshaken.

And when they ask where you went,

when they search for the girl they once buried beneath the quiet—

tell them you became the thunder.

Tell them you became the sky.

-AVB