Erased in Ink, Crowned in Ash
They wrote me out
like I was a typo in their story,
ink scratched thin,
name swallowed by margins.
I learned the shape of silence
in rooms that used to echo me.
Learned how absence feels
when it’s forced, not chosen.
They built their little bucket—
rusted, crowded, loud with claws
each grip a warning:
stay small, stay here, stay ours.
But I am not theirs.
I am the thing that survives deletion,
a ghost in the code,
a heartbeat under crossed-out lines.
Every hand that pulled me down
taught me where not to stand.
Every voice that erased me
left space to become louder.
So I climbed
not clean, not kind, not soft
but certain.
Now I write in permanent ink,
in fire, in sky, in scars that gleam
and from the top,
their bucket looks exactly
like what it always was:
too small
to ever hold me.
Reading this poem reminded me deeply of the personal struggle many of us face when our voices are minimized or erased. It's a universal experience — feeling like a 'typo' or a forgotten line in someone else's story. I've often felt pushed into spaces where my presence seemed unwelcome, and like the poem says, those spaces felt 'too small to hold me.' What resonated most was the poem’s depiction of silence — not as peaceful solitude but as a forced absence, an echo of being deliberately left out. This silence can feel isolating but also teaches resilience. In my experience, the moments when I was ignored or underestimated became the motivation to speak louder and find a new way to assert myself. The metaphor of writing "in permanent ink, in fire, in sky, in scars that gleam" embodies reclaiming one's voice with lasting impact. It’s about turning pain and erasure into strength and visibility. I've found that sharing my stories openly, even if imperfect or raw, is a powerful form of defiance and healing. This poem beautifully captures the journey from invisibility to affirmation. It encourages readers to embrace their unique journeys and to refuse the constraints imposed by others. The imagery of climbing, not 'clean, kind, or soft but certain,' celebrates perseverance in authentic self-expression — something I strive to uphold in my own life. For anyone feeling marginalized or silenced, this poem offers a message of hope: though others may try to erase you, your true essence can never be fully deleted. Your story, written boldly and without apology, can shine through any attempt to confine or diminish it.
