Nesting just
betwixt, or between.
I re-become
the beguiling bewitched
demon that has always been inside me, buried deep below the skin;
that one I admittedly know, I recognize.
That me that I become in the indignant instant
when truth I know in my heart where She abides
tries valiantly to meld Spock-like
with what I am hearing you say is the “truth.”
I know for a fact that it is not the “truth” and
it something ignites in me; it awakens Her,
setting off every alarm
for preservation.
That is the moment I have trouble
keeping the She-demon inside,
trouble keeping Her silent.
She is hides in the deepest part of my soul;
within the darkness that surrounds and envelopes me from within;
there she is the only light.
It is She who comes out to fight this fight.
It is a good fight, a fight for the good, that is.
More visceral, more base, yet more humane than me;
inevitably more cunning and some might say…
not cunning in a good way.
She is the me I am not always brave enough to admit is me too;
she takes control, defines battle lines,
draws the plans in the air
for all to see.
Like a general leading the charge,
She steps forward.
These are among my more challenging moments, I admit.
My fear is masked by my blank countenance
while the battle rages within.
I hear the call to take up the fight, and I know She is prepared.
This She
is the me that my soul runs to meet.
Never at a loss for words... 