Do You Need You?

Nuna Ma’Khai
Jun 1
4 min read

A poem on self-sacrifice and spiritual betrayal.

As a seer, poet, writer, and witch my life has been dedicated to helping others see themselves on their paths of remembrance. Poetry is one way I channel and deliver divine messages for my soul tribe to see, heal, evolve, and embody. I channel divine messages and merge them with my creativity to create pieces such as this. I write some poems that soothe the soul and write others that burn the being into awakening. This all helps my soul tribe remember themselves and embrace their connection with themselves and embody the wisdom within them. Do You Need You serves as a mirror. An entryway that requires the answer to the question most of us avoid: why do I sacrifice myself for another's approval? I wrote this as a flame for the one who feels starved at tables around those who hoard nourishment. I wrote this poem as a reminder that solitude is not neglect, abandonment, or punishment—it is initiation. An invitation back to self. Read at a pace that is comfortable for you. Let it cut whatever leaves you questioning your work and spiritual power. Let it unsettle the parts of you that need purification. If any part of you feels seen in its truest form, good. Because peace without confrontation is just sedation, and this poem refuses sedation. I want you to remember that you are loved. Thank you for taking a moment to read this poem. Share it. Save it. Let it remind you of your truest identity on your path of remembrance.

Why do you do this to yourself?

You frequently find yourself

in the liminal space between

accepting who you are and rejecting your truth

out of fear of being

spiritually hung by fools who couldn’t tell you

the origins of their last names

You offer your spine as a sacrifice

because the tales you were told about your soul

were false origins running from the mouths

of those who deceive themselves

Who would drink the spit and piss

from the fountains of their oppressors

They accept warped perceptions

perfectly constructed by puppeteers

who feed on their toxic blood and feeble bones

of self-pity and desperation

They are pumped and gassed with the fumes of

decaying lies—

and somehow you feel

that their acceptance is gold

Don’t you know

that they too, ache for something?

That they are mirrors and reflections

of what it means to be spiritually

emotionally, mentally

consumed, castrated

limited, lifeless

raped of everything that declares them as divine?

They are blind to the very things that make them sacred

and you wish to eat from their perishing palms

Royalty doesn’t feed from a peasant’s plate

Yet you show up starving at their gates,

pleading, banging, and begging for refuge

and a sanctuary to feel something familiar,

even if that feeling is a remanence

of past pain and torture

It is an abomination to your spirit

to seek refuge in the claws of those

who feed on your aura

You deny the wisdom in your womb

and accept that stank ass fast food they call love—

because you wish to feel

anything

other than the pulse of solitude

you call loneliness

Ain’t nothing wrong with a little silence

What—

you’re scared you’ll hear the voices again?

The voices of your ancestors

telling you to walk in your holy glow

with your infinity halo

even if it means you must deny scavengers

the nourishment of your light

You fight this feeling because what you crave

is the love you give

You crave for the warmth and radiance

you naturally exude

to shimmer and shine back at you

You feel robbed and starved

cause what you’re consuming lacks life

What you crave is more depth,

more feeling without the leaving that comes after

You seek safety and security

but you foolishly look to those

who mirror your relationship with trauma

The insecurities passed down

from your momma and her mother

What you crave, truly

is yourself

This world is filled with a trillion you’s

experiencing yourselves—

but not in the way

you do

And truly…

you’re not really afraid of accepting you

You’re afraid of feeling judged and alone

But didn’t you know

that those who spent time in solitude

uncovered the mysteries of this universe

no materialist scientist could ever measure

or fit into mass or a sequence of numbers?

Even their views are limited and driven by

perceptions they believe to be absolute

So, why sculpt yourself into a mold

that mimics their imagery and limited perceptions?

Why run in the shoes given to you?

Spend a little time in silence and solitude

The void is waiting to comfort you