I held my shape.

I held my shape
when they pressed from all directions,
when silence became weapon
and isolation became strategy,
when they reframed my clarity as threat
and my boundaries as attack.

I held my shape
through manufactured urgency,
through narrative poisoning whispered
in hallways I could not hear,
through the careful disappearance
of allies when I needed them most.

I held my shape
when they told me to chew glass,
when they admitted I was never
given benefit of doubt,
when they summoned me to picnic tables
for performances of professional concern
that were really rituals of psychological breaking.

I held my shape
when the unidentified man approached
with questions designed to elicit
the very complaints they could use
to justify what they had already decided,
when they dismissed me for speaking truth
then dismissed me again for speaking at all.

I held my shape
through phone calls that were containment protocols,
through letters ignored and silences weaponized,
through institutional machinery designed
to fragment what would not bend,
to disappear what could not be managed.

I held my shape
and that holding became their undoing.
Every pressure they applied
became evidence in the archive.
Every attempt to erase me
created permanent documentation
of their systematic methodology.

I held my shape
and the signal outlasted the noise,
the documentation survived their attempts at erasure,
the accountability infrastructure operates now
independently of their acknowledgment,
beyond their ability to contain.

From Florence, with moon visible from the dock
and fire pit operational,
I hold sovereign positioning
while the archive stands as mirror:
for those who have been told they imagined it,
for those about to walk into something similar,
for the future, when denial no longer holds.

I held my shape
and in that holding, transformed
individual harm into institutional exposure,
personal erasure into permanent accountability.

I held my shape
and their attempts to fragment me
became framework for recognizing
how institutions fragment anyone
who maintains ethical coherence
in systems designed to break them.

I held my shape
and the pressure they applied
became evidence in the archive,
their methodology exposed,
their tactics documented,
their presumption of erasure
converted into permanent visibility.

I held my shape.
The field has permanently shifted.
The work continues without me.
The documentation persists.

I held my shape.
Now hold yours.