It’s time for contemplation,

A reconciliation

Of the past to the


No more self-condemnation

For the things that i thought

Or the battles that i fought

In my head with the


Who detested what i sought.

She’s an echo in the dark

Of a much mistaken mark

Of what i thought a girl should


No bite and barely bark.

In contrast, this,  my Queen

Neither gentle nor pristine

In her crown of iron and


With her truth and conscience clean.

She’s the one who makes me dance

Makes me sing and make romance

With myself without


For the other’s outraged glance.

Both inside me, always cross,

Blaming each for other’s loss.

With the chasm in


Like a giant albatross

Hanging, broken, from my neck.

Like a mainsail on a wreck:

Or a  gypsy reading


Using only half a deck.

But i’m done with it, i say!

There must be some proven way

To end the battle always


Make the dark see light of day.

No more fighting twixt the two

For too long i’ve suffered thru

The dichotomy of


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


For liberation to begin.

Break thru that rusted gate

Of venomous self-hate.

The Queen shall rule the


And  as so, steer my fate.


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