She stood strong and watched as the remnants of who she always believed she was shriveled in the flames; and like the illusion that it was, it crumbled to ashes and floated away. What then remained was not timid or weak, it didn’t question and project. What remained was fierce, radiant, strong, and oh-so-alive. She rose again, unashamed, daring the world to look. She rose as the goddess she is, shining from within, naked but for her luminous soul.
© 2020 Cristen Writes