by Demetra Szatkowski

    I am not a goddess. I am not a divine feminine light. I want no reverence.

    Union means nothing to me, unless it means meeting my dark with your light.

    I have met death. I have heard her speak. 

    I have sat with all my loss, with emptiness, and I have felt the whole world move as one.

    The trees speak to me. They speak. To me.

    (They would speak to you if you knew how to hear)

    I know how to hold your pain. I know how to let you release everything from the depths of your soul.

    I know the herbs that surround me. I speak of healing. I give medicine that makes you release potential life.

    author’s own photo

    I hear the screams of the birds, of women in deepest orgasm, of the most destructive shreds of loss, and I see how they are all the same. All sides of the same coin.

    You keep your love and light. I will sit in the dirt. I will sit on the dirt with my feet in mud and I will let my hair go wild and I will laugh at your pretending.

    The dark is in you. Don’t you want to let her out to play?

    I lock the dark and light together. One does not exist without the other.

    I look at the stars and I see how they mirror you. How they mirror the world. How they are all energetic expressions of the same thing.

    My body mirrors the cycles of the earth. My body returns to winter every month and sheds itself to find the light of spring.

    I give my blood back to the earth.

    Does that scare you? Does it make you squirm? Does it make you feel a part of you you don’t know, that you do not want to feel?

    image source

    I talk to the world. I talk to the world between worlds. I feel everything the earth has to offer in order to better understand it.

    I am not here for you. I am here for existence.

    The world moves toward me and it says: you asked for this.

    I have puked up black. I have cried out the tears of my ancestors, of all our ancestors. I have learnt the secrets of my body.

    I rip away what is no longer good for me.

    I want the ecstasy that comes with pain. I require it. My manipulation comes with compassion, but it is there, in all its forms.

    I am not pure.

    My sex is not pure.

    I will hurt you, if you do not change in the fire as I do. I will trigger all your deepest-seated patterns and fears until things shift for you and our work is done. And I will leave.

    I have left almost everyone I have been close to in my life, each time trusting that fall into the void. The void of nothing-left-no-one-cares-who-are-you-in-all-this-darkness.

    I do not care if you like me. I do not care if you fear me. And I do not ask for your respect: I command it.

    Don’t call me nice. Don’t call me smart. Don’t whisper it under your breath.



    About the Author:

    Demetra Szatkowski is an astrologer, a personal trainer, and an empowerment coach for women. Her work also focuses on sexual energy and liberation, herbalism, and witchcraft. Find out more about her on, or follow @love_demetra


    featured image – author’s own




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