“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.