It traveled through the dark canopy of the forest
Agonizing whispers of my reputation
First a pointed finger, then murmurs
That I had made a deal with Satan
The roof was built to hold a crowd
A double share of wood, or so they said
I did not seek a master for my name
They presumed me to be sick in the head
Why must I surrender
When I was peacefully thriving alone
Tending to my garden of black dahlias
They saw me a threat, a woman grown
Echoes of my identity poisoned the air
The kettle shrieked, heavy knuckles hammering the door
I knew not to hide much longer
As their dirty boots blemished my floor
My body hit the creaky wood
My veil ripped, amulet shattered
They thought me a deviant to which I screamed
Why in god’s name did that matter
Torches dimly lit the quiet village
Soon filled with laughs of horrifying weight
They looked at my untethered mane
Mocking the absence of my mate
My sisters had chose the harder path of silence
While I had carelessly traded grace for sin
In rooms where docility saved them
My voice pierced their skin
They believed I harbored malice
For I was a woman standing alone
To turn away stability at any cost was foolish
To build a shelter entirely of my own
I did not cower
As I watched grey smoke flood the sky
They mistook my innocence for guilt
I refused to speak, I refused to deny
The sisal hauled my body north
With the crowd’s sole intention to bedevil
Children observed, confused yet awed
Until my shoes were their eye-level
The trial never ceased, the heavy shackle tightens
As a custom handed down the line
Today in boardrooms and sterile hallways
A woman’s burdens were first mine
