Did I utter a yes?
Did I bestow upon you permission?
To pry open my jewelry box,
And taint me to corruption.

What color was it? You question.
Magenta, lavender, lilac —
So many colors it could be,
Colors that unravel a flashback.

Am I to bear blame?
I am not at fault for its appeal.
Gives you no rhyme or reason,
Gives you no authority to steal.

My mother gifted me that jewelry box,
A sacred box she bid me keep safe.
My head, a powerful hurricane,
Paint a portrait of my distraught state.

For daring to open my jewelry box,
I'll hang you from a tree.
Will they question if you said no?
Repercussions echo for touching my jewelry.

© Myth