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.