Between Bruises & Blooms

Some grudges
are born quietly.

No screaming.

No dramatic vows
beneath a blood-red moon.

Just a woman
remembering.

Wildfire remembers.

Every lie.

Every door.

Every name
they thought she’d forget.

Pharma built walls
high enough
to hide behind

and called themselves
untouchable.

But walls burn.

Paper burns.

Secrets—

God,

secrets burn beautifully.

And somewhere
beneath the sirens
and smoke,

someone whispers,

“She’s coming.”

No.

Wildfire
is already here.