I wrap myself in this
Blanket of love
I wove from
The strings of my heart.
Settled in this safety net,
I grow outward -
Tendrils, roots, trunk and stem:
A plethora of me -
Till I am all I can see.
And as I grow,
My shadow grows too;
Black tar sludge oozes
Around my feet,
Squirming up till it fills
The marrow of my soul.
Shame, loathing, hatred, disgust....
All are ripened in the
Peaty bog.
I stand naked,
My filth visible to all.
Yet only those with
Sharper eyes
Penetrate beneath to see....
It is my choice to be here.
I do not suffer!
I am no victim of circumstance
But a willing descendant into darkness -
An empowered Persephone.
Bring me shame! Bring me fear!
Bring me loathing and disgust!
For they are mine and I own them;
Revel in them.
I love them
For they cannot love themselves.
And the black tar sludge
Overwhelms no longer
But is fertile ground
In which wild flowers bloom.
