The one hiding in the dark, on the edges - the self who has been denied, made wrong, shamed.
The one bathing in the light, in the centre - the self who has been selected, groomed, made acceptable.
The one turning to stone in the dark cave - who doesn't fit with the story I'm telling myself.
The one I leave standing or turn away or ignore when she arrives at my door.
The one I'm always fighting, strangling, smothering, drowning - the one who sometimes fights back and sometimes doesn't.
The one who needs to be invited in - the messenger, the bringer of the one gift that will make me whole.