Prodigy Child

I was not born divine,

I was carved into it.

Carved by nights that smelled of fear,

By childhood that grew teeth,

By the memories that I learned to survive

in the hollows of my bones.

The girl I was still hides in my spine.

Small, trembling, clutching secrets that were too heavy for her hands.

She learned early that silence is a weapon,

and that little girls sometimes carry the grief meant for entire generations.

But even then, even while breaking-

Something ancient stirred in her.

A flicker,

A pulse,

A dangerous feminine whisper

beneath the bruises of her innocence.

A goddess trapped inside a frightened child.

Trauma tried to shape me, mold me, claim me,

But the divine feminine does not die.

She resurrects in slow, stubborn flames

between the cracks of the wounded self.

And so I grew.

Not softly,

But like a storm reclaiming its thunder.

I became the woman

My younger self needed.

Fierce enough to confront the darkness,

Gentle enough to hold her with mythic tenderness.

In my adulthood,

I return to her,

The child who survived by shrinking her light.

I kneel in front of her like a priestess before a holy relic

and whisper:

“You were never meant to stay small.”

She looks up at me with eyes that remember everything

and in that moment,

We merge.

Her pain becomes my prophecy.

Her fear becomes my wisdom.

Her trembling hands become the foundation

of my sacred, resurrected self.

This is the alchemy: a divine feminine built

not from purity, but from ruin.

A goddess made not through worship,

but through witness,

Witnessing every wound,

Every betrayal,

Every silence swallowed

Just to make it through another day.

I rise as both woman and myth,

A survivor crowned in lunar ferocity,

A broken child reborn as her own deity.

This is the truth of my becoming:

I did not find the divine feminine,

I remembered her.

She was always there,

Waiting in the shadows of a childhood that hurt,

A childhood that shaped,

A childhood that ultimately gave me my power.

And, a mother figure who hurt me. 

I am both the wound and the healer.

The frightened girl and the awakened goddess.

I am the divine feminine born from trauma.

Forged in darkness, and risen unapologetically- 

Into my final, luminous form.

©® Farheen Akter Bhuian Nancy 

Time Frame: 12.34 pm, Tagar, Mirpur Cantonment.