The Burning Woman

Face to face with the wild she is yet to become

Yet she is

A detachment of mirrored quarrels

Pulling on strands of suffering

She chooses to relive

She walks a world of confusion

Torn into two distinct parts

Both maddening

Sacrificing the essence

Of both states that are already one

The madness is the objectifying of one

And the fire of another

 

Screaming for her freedom

Reckoning both

Wrapped in a box of dying perfection

She wants to murder

With cutting words of her tongue

And burn the edges with change

 

Cards that were dealt with lifetimes ago

Being a bitch and a lady

In a world that wants nothing but the death of her

And her wild

But not too much

It must be fashioned in a way that’s not hers

Owned by no one

Yet by the world

That tells her daily

She is not enough but

Too much to exist

She must conform to what she is told

Or be isolated forever in her happiness

Written by Astara Lak’ech ©

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