Too long did I bend
to external phantoms of judgment—
shadows with imagined murmurs,
ghosts circling my every move,
critical eyes that never closed,
fangs bared, claws scraping,
always condemning, whispering, clawing
their fingers reaching through walls,
their breath curling around my neck.

Tailored a self to the world,
retracting my soul to fit
I self-wove each from fear
of rejection, real or imagined

Too long I carried
my own condemning voice,
a chorus of doubt—
internal judge and jury
that crucified me,
Intrusive self-questioning
damning every step,
every breath,
every word,
every fragile attempt to be.

But,
I fed those voices to the fire.
The phantoms hissed, twisted,
their eyes melting into sparks,
their limbs dissolving to smoke.
The gavel cracked in flame,
the jury’s robes burned to ash,
their verdicts scattering on the wind.

The flames swallowed
my borrowed faces,
my defenses,

I let it burn.
I let the lies collapse.
I let the silence return.

And when the fire stilled,
I rose—
scarred, breathing,
naked of disguise.
a phoenix of my own becoming.
reclaiming the anchor of my soul

No longer ruled by echoes,
no longer chained by trial,
finding integrity,
a wholeness that can stand
before another soul
visible, honest and unmasked
unafraid of self

The voice within,
clear, courageous, and genuine,
speaks at last:

I am enough.
Enough as I am.
Here I stand.

Originally written: unknown start, 9/7-9/8/2025