"am i divine"?
tried to turn this into a poem as well, but didn't fit right, so here’s the raw essay instead. the 3rd of the series, while the first talks of angst (karma), the second of despair(fate), this one sheds light on the divinity of being a woman.
have a read💌
(1):
presuming hypothetically that the first man to ever exist was adam, and there was a woman,(eve) they were created by god. Who's to say god is not a woman? it could also mean that the first man to ever exist was because of a woman, he owes his existence to that same woman who brought him into this world? all tribute to the god or the goddess?condoning to that could we also for once believe that eve wasn't naive to be enticed to bite the forbidden fruit? what if, once upon a time, eve was the only one sensible enough to understand there exists more dimensions to the paradise than where she existed with her lover. it would also mean that a woman was smarter than a man? could it mean she was not credulous but rather succumbed to a lil wisdom contrary to the historic beliefs of being shown as an angelic symbol of purity and chastity.
(2):
"what are you afraid of my dear?" echoes in the minds of women who've been wronged." maybe i'm the reason why he is the way he, is."says a woman who's been called out for being more powerful than her husband. the fault of medusa wasn't that poseidon marked her but rather that she had the capacity to break all the shackles with her truth. yet history marked perseus a hero. when will they learn? whether a witch or a goddess both of them, burn. how long does she have to yearn? for the entire world to learn? that she is a woman first and that's itself is an approbation, there's no doubt, no fear, no apprehension.
(3):
since we've been birthed we've been taught that the most feral qualities exist in us. we're capable of relinquishing wonders- if love, wealth and contentment can be brought by a woman, how's she feeble? the day since i've existed, i've been taught i am someone who can tame a man, a beast or a monster, that the divine capacity of being a woman is more than just being poised and strutted, with lips of honey and eyes of submissiveness-
[he walks towards her in a dull room and there’s this starvation in his eyes as if she's a mural or this divinity he can do nothing but beg to hold. to touch. to desire.]
and in bright sight or moon night she is, the light.
