I no longer fear my own power.
For years, I kept it shoved down, caged into oblivion. Terrified to unleash the seemingly destructive force, untamed and rouge. Programmed voices in my head, “You are not strong enough to control this beast. Your will power is weak. You are too sensitive. Your emotionality will hurt yourself and more importantly others.”
But I say, “Fuc* that.” My super power is a vulnerable, open soul. A ferocious love, falling so hard and often, that hearts break open, and on the other side is our human deliverance.
“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” -Marianne Williamson
You have always scared me.
Electricity inside my sought out body
not supposed to be real.
I was taught, you are too dangerous.
You must be contained.
The beast unleashed would wreak havoc on a world already in shambles.
The current order, abused by hungry wolves, seduced by their own greatness.
Possessed by the gods they think they are.
Small tribes of royalty, slashing naysayers of the throne.
They tell us,
Girls like you are out of control.
Threatening chaos to the order
Rings of Lords, not meant for fragile fingers of emotion.
Put a robe over your head and sing tales of a handmaid.
by scarlet letters branded on our chests.
We see windows through the scars,
cackling at the moon.
Witches rising from the lakes you threw us in.
“And so we pray, oh my god do we pray
we pray every single day for revolution.”
And they say,
Be quiet silly girls,
Your power does not pass the smoke test of our bullshit.
Contain your demonic force, because we can’t handle temptation.
A hunter cannot restrain a voracious appetite for a juicy kill.
And so we roared,
a resonate bass, calling an army of #metoos,
knitting a cape of belligerent guts,
our middle fingers pointed up at the sky.
We willingly jumped out of the cage, unaware of the sentence.
The good girls our fathers raised,
crashed to a bloody death
The ancient desire, trembled our bones
A ring we feared to accept,
Until one day
Face down in the ocean
low tide, gently rocking our hearts
Our hands filled with earthy sand
we found the tiniest of shells.
And we knew
we passed the test.
crowned warrior queens, worthy to wield the sword
of creation’s power.
We must all rise together, it’s the only way through.Browse Front PageShare Your Idea
Read Elephant’s Best Articles of the Week here.
Readers voted with your hearts, comments, views, and shares:
Click here to see which Writers & Issues Won.