Do you know the Deep Dark Feminine?

She is not merely “dark.”

She is the darkness that existed before the word “dark” was invented.

The silence inside a skull that has never thought. The void that birthed the void 

She lives in the hollow beneath your ribs where you never dare to breathe.

She is the reason you sometimes wake at 3 a.m. convinced someone whispered your name.

She is the mother you never had and the mother who smothered you in the cradle.

She is Lilith laughing as she walks out of paradise, Kali sticking out her tongue at the gods and saying, “You are too small for my hunger.”

She is the witch who was burned and grew a rose from the ashes that only blooms at night.

She does not ask permission.

She takes.

She rips you open like a love letter that has waited centuries, and reads aloud everything you never dared to say - your rage, your lust, your grief, your desire to destroy what you love so it finally belongs to you alone.

She is not “wounded femininity” that needs healing.

She is the wholeness that breaks so something real can finally happen.

She whispers: “Come, darling. Let the good girl die. I have a crown for you made of raven feathers and shattered mirrors. I have a throne for you in the basement of the world. Here you are not a victim, not a princess, not a trophy. Here you are the storm that worships itself.”

And if you dare, look at Her without flinching…

She looks back with eyes so black you fall in and never want to climb out again.

Yes. I know the Deep Dark Feminine.

She lives in me.

She lives in you.

And She is hungry.