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.