Fury inside. She just wants to BE.
Be naked . Alive.
Oppressed by insidious worldly designs ;
Too loud , too clumsy , too wild.
Moment by Moment the essence of girl
Is torn aside.
Patched up with shame.
The self gets covered .
Denied the impulses , the drives – believing the world’s message.
Potions of rose petals , tightly wrapped posies of lavender and herbs , lost in the fabric of time
Ice cream boxes , housing mini worlds for creatures , slung aside in the gutter.
The wild girl unable to blossom.
Told . No.
Running free in knickers is not permitted.
The girl gets lost and fights her way through
Crippled now in shame.
Food soothes an angry soul.
It fills the void.
The Pain Of Shame.
Inability to express , no powerful crone to guide & bring into the light .
Just a string of broken women with no tools. Or spells .
So many lost wild girls.
Escape takes time. To find the divine inside
Awareness is now mine to behold and
The magic can restore
The beckoning of the wild girl begins –
Cut her reins , set her free . To BE.
This is Me .