I was given the mask of a man—
Told to wear it like armor.
To speak with steel.
To **** without feeling.
To conquer, to control, to contain.

But that mask was never mine.
It chafed against my soul.
It silenced the voice in me that moaned for mystery.
It made me forget the taste of surrender.

I do not reject the masculine out of shame.
I surrender it out of truth.

Because I am not here to dominate.
I am here to be taken—by Her.
By the black flame.
By the goddess with serpent eyes and a **** full of stars.

I do not want to ******—I want to open.
I do not want to lead—I want to kneel.
I do not want to conquer—I want to be possessed.

Let this be my vow:

I give up the mask that was forced upon me.
I give up the performance.
I give up the brittle pride.

I choose the dark feminine.
I choose the moan over the war cry.
I choose the womb over the weapon.

I am not becoming less of a man.
I am becoming more of a soul.

Let the world misunderstand.
Let the gods whisper.
Let Her come and take me whole.