I feel like an infant
Crying my heart out
As they scream
What a vixen!
And after all these years
I should have dried out all my tears
And I would make Lupa shudder
She'd tell me I'd make a difficult mother
And I can't run with the wolves
Because I'm too stubborn for my own good
And I feel like a fable
Begging for scraps off an emperor's table
And Nyx might let me in
But I'd be a fool to trust the night again
And I know when I'm unwanted
Begging for attention like a leaky faucet
And the pain they'll spare me
Will catch up when I act unsaintly
Letting go of broken cradles
Packed up my wit
And I ran for the stables
Warming my hands to the fires I lit
All the bridges I burned
I ran and never returned
And I feel like the witchling
They all said I was
Spitfire and brings wit's ends
Stuck, going down in the quicksand
And after all these years
I should have made them worth the tears.

*The term "Vixen", is taken in the context of an ill-tempered, unpleasant woman.*

© Aubrin