A Letter to the Empath – No. 10
A spectre graced the end of her bed as dawn approached causing a sharp awaking
That is how your sister knew you picked the petals of a daisy on the 21st June when the sun was highest in the sky
and he loved you not
She held your hand through your grieving for some time only in silence
Only until your smeared eyes began to clear did she break silence to say
“Sister, remember when you walked on broken glass with your bare feet, left unharmed?”
The villagers believed you a witch and banished you further into the forest and you gave birth on the damp soil.
You laid in your own blood for 3 hours, but you survived
Along the way you forgot who you are and raised him above your head to veil your glory; where once all cowered in sight of your crown
But your sister is here to remind you,
They believed you a witch for you were not a slave
So, what do you call a man who leaves your back door swinging at 3am?
a burden lifted in your honour.
7 thoughts on “A Letter to the Empath – No. 10”
It also reminds me of Julia Kristeva’s work on the abject.
Never heard of her, I will check it out, thanks
Just recalling the woman in the domestic violence survivors’ group who told of being arrested when she ran out of the house to escape the violence, ran to a neighbor’s door and knocked in her terror in search of assistance, to be turned away. When the authorities arrived in response to the neighbor’s call for assistance for themselves, the victim was cowering in their driveway, and arrested. Now because of this she is not allowed to purchase a firearm. A witch, I suppose.
Very sad story. Sounds like the neighbour was also a narc. I hope she’s in a better place now.
Ditto Renarde, Witch.
That is so beautifully written. Its haunting. You have a great gift, you know.
I’m sorry you were hurt.
I’m glad you like it.
I originally wrote it for a friend who I believe was going through a narc issue