A Conscious Unwillingness

they say she stayed in her tower

for those cold years

out of obedience

adherence

and requirement

but perhaps it was

fear

the small window a reminder of a small role

in a theater outpacing the eye

a natural rythym

undeserving of an intruder

are we to believe

she was unaffected by the suffocating space

out of maternal reverence

or 

are we to believe 

she conjured her own poisoned air 

 

until a breeze swept it away

a connection formed

for a girl 

who all along

feared not the punishment of a sorcress

but

the punishment of failed investment 

 

the sweet fruit of the risk could not be retched

and the tower became vacant

 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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