Prompt The spiritual tenor of “Bitch Byee!!”. Once, I was the ghost in my own home— soft-voiced, forgiving, holding the door open for people who came only to take pieces of my quiet. I mistook patience for holiness. Mistook silence for strength. Mistook love for something that had to bleed to prove it was real. But time is an afterproof—it settles the argument. This is where the scars change their language. They stop being shame. They become maps. Every curse spoken over your life starts turning into a calling card. Proof. Evidence. After proof. And this is where the spirit learns a new prayer. Short. Sharp. Sanctified. Not whispered in shame, but sung like a choir that finally knows its worth. Bitch, byee. Not anger. Release. Not hatred. Boundaries wearing lipstick. A holy closing of doors that were never meant to stay open. Because every return now comes with a reconnection fee. Paid in growth. Paid in truth. Paid in respect. And some people still show up empty-handed So I bless them with distance. I bless them with silence. Bitch… byee.