Tell the Devil I’m Driving

by MissT

I am MissT, born of dark tide,

NPT’s shadows where ghosts still ride

.Aberavon beach, where storms would rule

,Blaenbaglan halls, hard lessons of school.

Nobody’s hero, no one’s fool,forged in the margins,

I broke the rule.Four children carried, grown, yet near,their laughter, pain, my song to hear

.A grandson’s smile, a granddaughter’s hand,the small soft anchors that help me stand.I’ve walked through love that cut and bled,four marriages, ghosts beside my bed.A scapegoat child with bruised black eyes,a father’s silence, a mother’s lies.Still I rose with pen in hand,to carve my truth, to make my stand.Divorced, damaged, dangerous—true,yet every scar birthed something new.I stitched my pain in shadowed lines,a scripture inked on gothic shrines.I’m MissT now, with fire and grace,a phantom crowned, I claim my place.From Ashes to Ink to skies aflame,to wild red roses that mask my pain.Agents may falter, the world may delay,but I send my words through night and day.Through Substack echoes, TikTok streams,WordPress graves and Amazon dreams.I’ve held the broken, I’ve kissed the flame,I’ve danced with demons, I’ve worn their name.Yet still I hunger, yet still I write,a woman forged in blood and night.My gallbladder’s gone, cut out, torn apart—but no blade has ever touched my heart.Through HRT haze, through weight I bear,through haunted scars, through midnight prayer.For I am no one’s shadowed wife,I am the author of my life.So keep your silence, keep your shame—I’ve built my power, reclaimed my name.And when the dark comes, I will not hide:I’ll take the wheel, the open ride.The road is mine, the stars aligning,So tell the Devil that I’m driving.