The Gaze of the Honey Eyed Girl

How long can I continue on living a life of half truths? 

How much grace will my soul be willing to give, 
as I deny her call 
again 
and 
again,
for the sake
of upholding 
an illusion. 

How much longer can I stand on the edge 
of this crumbling mountain, 
refusing to see 
the 
earth shattering 
rebirth
taking place 
beneath 
my very feet?

It is true, 
it was I
who made myself
into this all nurturing, 
too-nice girl,
of course
with the best of intentions. 

Always holding her tongue, ready to please. 
Quiet and demure as a church mouse.

Her saccharine words 
and 
submissive 
sweetness, 
are a 
s l o w 
death
to the wild 
and discerning 
woman 
within me.

They say
the soul of a woman cries out 
when it is time
for a too-good thing
to die

…but will I have the courage 
to draw my sword 
and reclaim my power 
from her 
honey 
eyed 
gaze? 

Or will she gently
tuck
me
into
her comforting embrace 
and 
very
quietly
suffocate me in her 
oh
so 
loving arms?