The Lioness and the Ghost

The tree

The tulips

The Ivy

I was her

She was me

So many voices, so many sounds. Best not to let the ugliest one win.

Ugly being fearful. Can beauty ever hide? Isn’t that what make beauty, beauty? It is honest and cannot hide.

Weak, limp, shrivled grey Ghost of myself

Slung over my shoulder with two mouths reaching to both of my ears with her talons cupping over them. She whipers. Each one of her words pour into me, as I scream inside. Snatching out my spine. Leaving me frozen, breathless no where to go. Regurgitated fearful phrases.

Where is the lioness that sleeps in the cave inside me?

“Come out now! Your courage is needed!”

The ghost wanes, the lioness fangs waxing as she emerges.