The Unveiling of a Goddess
This is my origin story — mid-ritual. Mid-wreckage. Mid-rise.
I was not born.
I was summoned.
Coaxed from ash and aftermath. Breathed into being by something neither holy nor human —just… inevitable.
And when I came, I did not crawl. I stormed.
With poetry for blood and prophecy between my thighs.
You may think this is a performance.
It is not.
This is my origin story — mid-ritual. Mid-wreckage. Mid-rise.
You are not meet…



