Sisters, the time has come
to end the vigil,
this long watching
wakefulness.
I am bone-sore
and soul-weary
from ritualizing the role
I was assigned at birth:
good woman
giving from my own drought,
silencing the storm inside me,
observing the lavish, living world from my leash.
I have lost sight of
the truth of me.
My vigilance rests on a lie
and all my strength and devotion,
which could fill oceans,
gets siphoned into
playing my part
convincingly.
But for whom?
The ruthless, ruinous
powers-that-be?
It is not for them to tell me who I am.
I close out this night-watch
with honor and respect for both
the careful, keen-eyed girl
who saw to my survival and
the fierce, feral creature
that has survived my domestication.
Tonight, I set them both free
to dance in the fertile darkness so that I may decide,
for myself, at last,
what I am.
Photo by BRDNK Vision