The ache becomes archive
For every time I was underpaid, unseen, and undervalued—because I have values.
For the policing of expression. For the ways joy and frustration were silenced.
For every corporate smile-mask that said one thing and did another.
For the untouched, the unchosen, the unclaimed—not because I lacked, but because I burned too bright.
This is the sigil of Eros: not a symbol of desire... but the record of how I was denied, and endured.