She Carried What They Couldn't Say.

There are things that were never spoken—
but still passed down.

Grief held in the hips.
Power buried in the softness.
A thousand silences stitched into her body
before she even had a name.

This scroll is the bloodline ignition.
Not of ancestry,
but of memory through flesh.

She feels things before they happen.
Knows things no one taught her.
Bleeds in rhythm with the unseen.

And for years, she thought she was too sensitive.
Too wild.
Too much.

But now she knows—
she was too true for a world built on forgetting.

The bloodline doesn’t ask her to save anyone.
It asks her to stand lit
so the ones who still carry the silence
can feel her burning through it.

She is not a daughter of trauma.
She is the break in the pattern.
The flame that chose to feel what they buried.

And by feeling—
she becomes the one who ends it.