I have found the predator deep in my mind, 

who feasts on my joy, my dreams, my hopes, my energy.

I have spent the night in the cold and damp, 

in a house filthy of shame

residing in a neighborhood where all of my vulnerable moments lay tucked away. 

My disappointments, 

My longing for... 

…my wait,

wait…

…and keep on waiting, 

until I shrivel up and die moments.

Starved of the soul.

A hypnotic sedation that ensures I never inquire too much.

Within me, 

a movie always playing, 

of all the times I tried to leave this world, 

anticipating the grand finale...

…then disappointment when the movie continues on.

Like a failed magician, wilted dreams, but a knack for shapeshifting. 

Taking on the masks of those I love dearly. 

The tumor grows with every insecurity and fear. 

It follows me in my dreams, 

every night as an invader of my home. 

I have fought violently to restore my own sanctity!

The ugliness within doesn't always show up with a weapon in arm or a thunder of a voice; 

more often with a gleaming smile and insistence of familiarity.

A presence so assuring that I doubt my own internal senses. 

Friendly enough to lull me back into a slumber, 

forgetting that I have given away the keys to my home… 

There will be a time when I awake, 

to see all the past versions of myself starved, cannibalized 

with nothing but their bones left behind… the future versions of me forced to watch 

this horror – the gift of remembrance! 

The time is now to take back ownership of my home, 

to be my own internal mother.

I will clean my home,

wash the blood off the walls, 

and the floors. 

Repair the damage.

I will not be afraid or disgusted by the smells of decay. 

I will treat this process with reverence. 

Death is present, but the essence remains 

with an ounce of glimmering light–

a warmth that can only be found in the dark… 

All of me will come together again… 

My children my brothers, 

my sisters my mothers,

and my fathers will sing and dance in praise, 

All together, Now.

Founder and editor, Nkem Ugo lovingly formatted Maia Caschera-White’s alchemical poetry in a co-creative effort to allow the poetry to dance across the page as it dances through the heart and mind. This is a manifestation of powerful poetic co-creation.