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…