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
