Circe and I

We float on our islands alone

Our faces were too plain

Voices too shrill

Words too honest

Our integrity our downfall.

We make friends of the plants and the beasts

Telling stories to the wolves and flowers

The world bends to your whim

The herbs and oils you mix

Rewriting the story.

We are shamed for our self defense

They fear our shrewdness, and shun

Us, mourning the potential, the future

We apparently took from someone else,

Never mind the dreams and time we won’t get back.

Let them fear us, I declare

If they see wolves in our eyes

Let them run and tremble 

At the piercing howls we utter

With hackles raised we will turn hunter into hunted.