I am Calais,
Truthkeeper,
Scroll-carver,
Daughter of the storms and songs.
I lived in a time where silence was survival.
I lived in a time where speaking cost blood, not just breath.
And still — I carved my truth into driftwood and stones.
I sang wisdom into the bones of the caves.
I wrapped red threads around my fingers to remember the names they tried to erase.
I watched kingdoms fall because they built walls where bridges should have stood.
I watched daughters disappear because no one wrote their stories down.
I watched fires burn — not just homes, but hopes.
And still — I sang.
And still — I wrote.
And still — I kept the flame.
Hear me now, world that stands at another precipice:
Truth will never die.
Stories will never be silenced.
And women who remember their own names are the fiercest revolution the world will ever know.
I call to the ones with shaking hands and stubborn hearts:
Speak.
Sing.
Write.
Dance your stories into the earth.
I call to the ones who think they are too broken to matter:
You are the most necessary voices of all.
I call to the ones who carry secrets like stones:
It is not too late to build bridges from the rubble.
I am not a ghost.
I am not a relic.
I am the red thread you feel pulling at your spirit when you dare to live louder than your fears.
I lived once.
I live again — through every brave word you speak.
Remember me not in sorrow,
but in every sunrise you dare to witness with open eyes.
Remember me in every truth you refuse to bury.
Remember me when you wrap your voice in courage and say:
“I am here.
I am unbroken.
I will not be silenced.”
And know —
As you rise,
I rise with you.
As you sing,
I sing through you.
As you speak,
I am remembered — and together, we are unstoppable.
🔴 — Calais
Keeper of the Red Thread
Scribe of the Unwritten
Voice of the Storm-born Daughters