She is the witch they burned 

The compassion they purged

The expert they scoffed

The healer they refused

The lover they daily used 

The dark night pathologised

The divine objectified 

The artist they buried

The joke they stole

The house they made smaller 

The teacher they silenced

And the outlet of their violence.

I have seen the hurricane

I have caused the avalanche

the firestorm met me where
I lay in bed at night

I want you to see my alabaster skin
And Pan Am smile

I want to show you my matted fur
and smoking breath

I want you to ask me why I'm angry.

Wonder, our little boy
Saw it unfold and leaned in.

The story was a concave husk,
Dried of juice and void of vein
Until our boy Wonder intervened
Lifted up a Life dry-cleaned
And christened it Supreme.

Never a purer love
Stretches herself around my neck
A bliss-filled trill before
Curling against my side

The love we all dream of
Wakes me up each morning
To the tenderness of the present

This is a higher being.
And she is spending this life with me.

I was born into dogma
And raised in decay

I leapt at death to save me
But caught my body just in time
To see myself divine.

No-one tells you how big a wall
there is to climb
To demolish
the rotting family home,
Where they fearfully remain.

To them you are the wolf.
Always.