A poem can find a dark soul at night The rebirth I had after I sat with my plight
The demons I held onto and encompassed me with their wings Spoke of wild, dark, and wicked things.
And I felt warm there I felt raw Like an ice sculpture exposed to the sun. Slowly waiting to thaw.
Or a cocoon forgotten in winter, Made it to spring I climbed out of my cocoon when I put down that drink.
I spread my wings when I had enough, Enough of men who used me to feel tough.
And I flew high above the clouds Right before my death I looked right into my shadow. And she said, “I’ll see you again” “You’ve won this fight, but not the battle”