Photo by Kristina Flour via Unsplash

Hate is a familiar feeling 

Born from those asking for it to be love 

My only daughter

Longs for more 

But I can only feel the swell of contempt 

Why my eyes rest upon her 


Loathing is a comforting blanket 

When the world asks me to give up 

A part that will not bow 

Men, ask to rule this domain, but how 

Can I give it up 

When I cannot even give up a piece of me 

To my own daughter 

Begging for a mother 

I will not be 


Pain is a cup of warm tea 

Soothing my soul, but burning my hands 

Leaving one in the sand 

As the men take more and more

To give my kingdom freedom and wealth 

Lays waste to my blood 

My daughter has fallen 

On the steps lay her body 

But the men ask me to give up more 

How much more 


Jealousy is the sound of a crackling fire 

Eve, they call her 

Subservient to the raven 

Allowing her husband 

A stranger 

And a woman wishing for blood 

To cut my hand 

To give up even more 


All I ask for now is sleep 

Nothing is left of me to take

I cannot even find her 

She sleeps in a stranger’s bed now 

While I sleep 

Free from the men, the pigeonholing, the followers 

I dream of freedom 

I dream of sin