Each part
contains
The heart
Of the whole
As a child
I played with dolls.
Stories unfolded with
Plastic characters in my hands.
There were villains
And heroes,
And every one of them
Was me.
There was Stacy
And Whitney:
Two girls to rule
peacefully.
As years passed
The story evolved.
Some dolls rose to power
Others learned to cower.
Each doll fought
An inner war.
Some lost their pride.
Others stood and defied.
Where the young and innocent once reigned
Now the dark temptress stole the stage.
Where Whitney had been kind and fair,
Claudia wove webs to ensnare.
My tales
always
Unveiled
a queen royal
As my gown
grew,
Her crown
grew too.
(Ooo) Each successor
(Oh!) more ambitious.
(Ooo) Every challenger,
(Oh!) more vicious.
(Ooo) Each ruler
(Oh!) more promiscuous.
(Ooo) More cruel,
(Oh!) more vicious.
Sidekicks were no longer dependable,
Cheanna treated all as expendable.
The entire court fractured,
The unity of childhood shattered.
Reflections of my inner change:
The tales I told, so imaginary,
I didn’t know that my story-telling game,
Was a form of parts-work therapy.
There were villains
And heroes,
And every one of them
Was me.
Now a woman
With a mask
For every task handed
To me.
There were villains
And heroes,
And not a one of them
Was free.
I questioned which identity
Could bring me serenity.
What mask could I apply
to shimmer in all eyes?
I’d put the vampire
on a throne,
But she was doomed
to be alone.
I had to cage
my inner-Machiavellian.
No matter her rage
in constant rebellion.
If thoughts were poison,
I’d jail the judge,
Confine the siren,
Silence the tyrant.
I renounced my darkness
For over a year
I was angelic,
A true dear.
My cravings were tamed,
My urges were slain,
And only the kindest
Of me remained.
Yet I became stiff
In words and joint
Bound by rules
On every point.
My restrictions
Were convictions
On which
I wouldn’t budge.
Against myself,
I was holding a grudge.
I relinquished the reins
I’d clutched so tight.
Instead of feeling like I’d gained
Something so right,
I felt I’d done nothing but feign
A mask so contrite.
I brought my new insights into the light,
But to others, nothing sounded quite right.
I wanted to be true,
But I also wanted to be liked by you.
Nearly mute at twenty-eight
I spent a year with words stuck.
In my quest to be first-rate,
My mouth became firmly shut.
Behind bars
I’d forged and locked,
The query grew large:
Who cares if I’m mocked?
I’d break this prison
(Prison of pride)
I couldn’t live confined
(confined)
(confi—)
Was I not the same girl—
Who’d always been teased?
Since when had I become—
So eager to please?
In retrospect I can see,
I’d finally learned how to read—
Not just books, but faces,
Written in flesh are traces
Of true feelings quickly hidden
Since our storms are forbidden.
At thirty
I could see,
How I triggered others
With my authenticity.
Where before I could speak,
Not knowing how my words would land;
Now I saw in eyes and cheeks,
A hundred little reprimands.
The more we know,
The less we say.
Is this growth?
Or is it decay?
The more we know,
The less we say.
Is this growth?
Or is it decay?
The more we know,
The less we say.
Is this growth?
Or is it decay?
I freed my voice,
But what of my heart?
Could there ever be space
For all my parts?
Decades after my imaginary
tales of tyrants and monarchies,
I found the dolls still lived inside,
Small, frozen, afraid to breathe or cry.
I searched within
For the self locked in ice.
In my arms she’ll finally begin
To melt, to grow,
to get a chance to become old.
I’m done with being untrue;
I have too much to lose.
I am vast;
I contain multitudes.
Each me has another story to tell.
Their own history, their own spells.
Some are babies, and some are grand.
Most are ladies, but one is a man.
Condemn me as crazy,
And every artist with me.
Every author, healer, and creator,
We’re not monolithic creatures.
On this multi-sensory ride,
We’re all mirrors and makers.
Within our inner tides
We find the fractured, fractal whole.
I cast thrones aside,
I opened every box I could find.
I needed all my parts;
A revelation at thirty-five.
No prisons or crowns.
No villains or heroes.
Just a table of counsel
For every tale and fable.
Embracing my core
mythology,
I was never more
in my authenticity.
Call me too much,
Call me brave.
Conformity is a crutch;
It’s truth I crave.
Honesty
Is my resolution.
Transparency
Is a revolution.
Each part
contains
The heart
Of the whole
— Raederle Phoenix
Originally drafted June 4th 2025
Major revisions October 28th 2025
Tweaks August 26th 2026
