It’s time for contemplation,

A reconciliation

Of the past to the

Present

No more self-condemnation

For the things that i thought

Or the battles that i fought

In my head with the

Woman

Who detested what i sought.

She’s an echo in the dark

Of a much mistaken mark

Of what i thought a girl should

Be…

No bite and barely bark.

In contrast, this,  my Queen

Neither gentle nor pristine

In her crown of iron and

Fire,

With her truth and conscience clean.

She’s the one who makes me dance

Makes me sing and make romance

With myself without

Regard

For the other’s outraged glance.

Both inside me, always cross,

Blaming each for other’s loss.

With the chasm in

Between

Like a giant albatross

Hanging, broken, from my neck.

Like a mainsail on a wreck:

Or a  gypsy reading

Tarot

Using only half a deck.

But i’m done with it, i say!

There must be some proven way

To end the battle always

Raging;

Make the dark see light of day.

No more fighting twixt the two

For too long i’ve suffered thru

The dichotomy of

Womanhood:

The “Girls should” and the “I do.”

I am firm. I won’t give in

To some other’s views on sin.

I must sacrifice my damning

Self

For liberation to begin.

Break thru that rusted gate

Of venomous self-hate.

The Queen shall rule the

Echo,

And  as so, steer my fate.