Little Lovey

The truth is,

when I was a young girl,

I allowed others to see me.

My light—so bright,

my love—so strong,

it lured everyone in.

Unfortunately,

that included monsters.

The kind with intentions

darker than anything you could imagine.

They ripped me apart

trying to keep a piece

of that loving light.

So I learned to hide it—

not because I wanted to,

but because I had to.

I saw them everywhere:

those without,

eager to take with force

what they lacked.

I didn’t want it to be this way.

⸻

I had to hide my light

to survive.

But now,

I choose to reveal it

with discernment—not fear.

I am no longer prey.

I am power.

And no one gets to touch my soul

without reverence.

⸻

Still,

I heard something in the darkness—

a voice crying out:

“You were never too much.

You were only too luminous

for those still stumbling

in the dark.”

Some of us were born with light so loud it scared the dark. This is a poem for the girls who became prey—and the women who became flame.