Listen to me.
For beyond this, nothing else exists,
We give way to nihilism.
The consciousness of thoughts,
Ceases to exist.
On some days, I am woman.
On others, I am
Something other,
Barely contained,
Doing womanly things.
But my stories have a sense of familiarity,
The undertones I speak of are not works of fiction.
Man, woman, child
Principles of existence,
Of being, spirituality,
Reside in me,
As the stories of yesteryears,
Generations buried, begin to unfold.
We shall not forget the story of creation,
The fall of man,
As sin gave way to life.
Leave no room for doubt, or negativity,
For I carry something greater than you can fathom,
I carry the gift of life in me,
Mother nature's gift to me,
Mother Eve's blessing upon me.
I am not afraid of your fearful stories,
Your falsehoods borne of fear,
Your attempts at subjugation.
I am not like the others before me,
Although I carry their stories with me.
I told you this before,
And so we come full circle.
I am not one thing,
I am something other,
For I am woman,
But I carry life in me.
Creation's mysteries.
©May
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