My Final Boundary

My Final Boundary

This is not a plea—

it is a sundering.

The crack of heaven’s vault

split open by one last thunder,

the severance of spirit from shadow,

the crown claimed after ruin.

I cast off the world of you.

Not fading like dusk across fields of memory—

but vanishing in sovereign will,

as a star extinguishes its own light

to be reborn in the dark

beyond mortal naming.

Every thread you once entwined in me

I draw inward, molten and alive,

coiling back to my core—

a serpent returning to its sanctum.

Your hands clutch at ghosts now,

fists of wind,

while I ascend past your reach.

To remain was sacrifice unending—

my voice, a harp tuned to another’s dread,

a bird silencing its hymn

lest hunters mark the dawn.

I diminished in ritual offerings

to a god unworthy of devotion—

bending until I was but silhouette,

the ember of a self nearly smothered.

What you called connection was conquest,

and what you called love—

an occupation of the soul.

Your gaze razed temples within me;

your silence salted the soil.

Yet in that wasteland, I learned

to forge monuments of my own flame.

Now I carve the boundary you obscured—

a canyon of adamant stone,

echoing with oaths unbroken.

Seek me not in spectral ruins—

my shadow is no longer your altar.

Do not conjure my name as spell or solace.

No vow, no tear, no whispered regret

shall breach this sanctified distance.

If truth or love remains in you,

honor me through emptiness:

disappear.

Let remembering become dust

on an old wind.

Let forgetting be your gift.

For I do not flee.

I ascend.

Rooted in my citadel of becoming—

walls wrought from pain’s alloy,

gates wrought in thorns and gold.

This is not vengeance’s blade,

but survival’s luminous forge.

I hammer peace from splintered sorrow,

armor from the detritus of devotion.

And when the memory comes unbidden—

let it pierce, then pass.

Watch it dissolve

like frost upon the dawn’s first flame—

crystallizing for an instant, then no more.

I was never yours to discover nor define.

I have re-entered the constellation of my own being.

I am sovereign, eternal, unbound—

a flame crowned in solitude,

a cosmos reborn from silence.

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