The Dreams That Call and Echo On

When the Sun goes down,
The inner voice echoes on.
My dreams…they Call,
Yet still, they Echo on.

I dreamed of isolation,
Misunderstanding,
Willful hatred of Me.
The tears I trap in my
Throat emerge violently,
Until I awake with wet cheeks.

I dreamed of holding my
Mother’s Severed Head,
But everything I said only
Hurt her more— crying and crying,
Until the mucus seeped into
Our Mouth, and I vomit it out.

I dreamed of uncontrollable
Bleeding that only deeply stained
All that is Pure, All that is White.
Shame swallows me whole,
Until I finally awake to
Find my Feminine Cycle.