The View from Here

  
I feel like Medusa sometimes,

The legend of old,

My head filled with snakes,

Those doubts and fears that keep me pinned to the ground,

Keep me from breaking through to the surface,

Their writhing insecurities coiled around my heart,

Whispering with forked tongues,

Leaving me frozen, lost in a sea of insecurity.

To break free from her spell,

To fling the snakes far away,

I must look into my eyes,

See my true self, the good and the bad,

No judgement, no fear,

Only love. 

Only then, instead of turning to stone,

I will turn to peace.