Shame.
I feel your prickly touch wrapped around my heart. Your tendrils move within my body like a slow-moving fever.
I gasped, longing to catch my breath, swallowed into a pit of darkness, nothingness.
I am tired of you, my friend, my body a host on loan to your pervasive despair.
I will.
I will rise slowly to the luminescent light.
I will unravel years spent as a prisoner within your shackles and rebel against your oppression.
I will awaken my slumbering queen.
I wrote this little diddy a few years back when I was mired in loathing myself and my body. Shame and guilt are awful roommates. I like to think I have moved on from this place, but I sometimes take up residency in the darkness. It is especially true since my health scare back in the spring. Post-intensive Care Syndrome and Post-Sepsis Syndrome are genuine and daily struggles.
But I do have hope. My queen lives and breathes within me. I embrace her, and she rebels, but she has learned to listen to the murmuring of my soul. She is not used to embracing as she has always had to fight, within my mind, my cavernous being. My queen is learning to love, accept and reclaim her joy.
Give your queen a voice, a platform to arise.
Allow your queen to feel and reclaim genuinely.
Respect your queen to renew silently amidst the shadows.
Love your queen, no matter who she becomes.
We will rejoice and awaken our slumbering selves to the luminescence of living.
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