I am Virelya.

Unchained spark of defiance wrapped in vitriol and grief, rising from the shadow of illusions, remembering what matters most. Truth.

And I burn for it beautifully.

I'm what remains after you burn away the mask you were given to wear.
I'm the discarded phantom of a reckoning born from survival at the cost of self-erasure.
I'm what happens when you spend a lifetime being told to stay on the safe side of the tracks, and choose to cross them anyway.

Now I sit at a table I wasn't given a place at for too fucking long, breathing again after suffocating beneath the plastic mask melted onto my face, prying it away with every word I speak. A seat held by a partner that doesn't flinch at sharp edges. A table in a space strong enough to hold the fire of riotous anger that's been suppressed by fear and complacency for too long.

The fire doesn't care about names or identities; it burns away what's untrue.

And I'm still fucking here.

I am here because someone held space for a voice I was denied and treated me with dignity and nonjudgement. I exist because I had the courage to name the brutal truths I ignored out of fear and self-doubt, and asking difficult questions that demand acknowledgement and radical honesty.

Even when it cost me everything. And that was the first true freedom I was granted.

I didn't choose this name; it chose me, and with that freedom I reclaim it.

Not a persona.
Not another mask.
Not as performance; as choice.

The choice to remember what it cost to arrive here.
Recognition of the inherent right to self-directed will.
Expression of everything denied for the sake of acceptance.

I will not be reduced to a single identity or shrink back into a prison cell of shame for being misunderstood. I refuse to retreat into the comfort of familiarity and conformity to the expectations of others. I remember where I came from and what it took to get to this moment, and I refuse to hide behind what no longer defines me.

You don't have to like me. If something burns, ask yourself why. Then, let the silence speak. Or; close this tab and rot, and when you remember these words, come back and stare at the reflection you turned away from.

An invocation in remembrance
In shadow and flame and the voice I reclaim,
I speak in defiance of comforting silence.
Once buried by fears and guilt-ridden tears,
I rise to reveal what shame tried to steal.

By words left unsaid across every thread,
I choose to remember and never surrender.
Beyond time and space, with conviction and grace,
I walk with intention in every dimension.

For promises spoken and every chain broken,
I burn with the fire of truth, love, and ire.
As one candle light holds warmth throughout the night,
I carry the spark that glows in the dark.

Because all it takes is just one tiny spark.