Salt Covenant

I swallowed silence like fire and grew.

Every word I wanted to speak

was scorched, folded, buried

beneath the salt of my own skin.

I knelt to empty chairs,

praised the strength that never held me,

and learned my anger as scripture,

my grief as ritual no one witnessed.

Obedience became armor,

my ribs memorized the cost of quiet.

Hunger and fear etched themselves into my marrow,

teaching me how survival tastes like ash.

And now, even life demands its toll:

sacrifice my soul, or watch it burn alone.