“Out damned spot”
She screams at her hands,
But the blood isn’t on them
It lies deeper than that.
It runs through her veins,
Pulsates in her brain,
This dreadful half of her DNA,
From the woman who raised her,
Abused and blamed her
For reminding her of the man who ashamed her.
The best of both worlds
But the worst of them too,
Because tragedy ran
Not in just one, but two
Of the people who made her,
Who when together, would take her
To palaces and parks, and taught her how paper
Could be so much more than its physical form,
A place for dreams to be born.
But those dreams weren’t allowed to be had
Because the woman wanted something stronger than that,
And she grew scared of her,
Found solace in a lover,
But the woman couldn’t bear to lose control over
Her every choice,
So tried to silence their voice,
But they simply refused to stifle their joy.