Whatever It Takes

By Kritika Singh

I have laced my breath into the wind,

whispered my name into the bones of the earth,

let the tide carve my will into salt-stung shores,

and still, the world asks if I am enough.

I have spun my ribs into harp strings,

let silence pluck a tune of longing,

woven my heart into tapestries of ember,

but oh, how the stars remain unimpressed.

I have given, and given, and given—

torn my shadow into ribbons for the lonely moon,

let my voice dissolve into an echo of echoes,

let my feet blister on the road to "almost."

But hear me now-

I will let fire course through hollow veins,

make peace with ruin and call it a rebirth,

drown doubt beneath the weight of my own name.

I will rise with the quiet certainty of dawn,

drink the sky like an oath,

turn my bones into bridges, my scars into light.

I will not falter—

I will become.

Whatever it takes.

By Kritika Singh