In the depths of these cursed nights,

I may have wandered free,

Like Saxton's witch, possessed, unbound, you see.

With stainless courage crafted in rages' embrace,

I would've danced with darkness, maybe find my place.

Haunted by the whispers, I would have roamed the air,

Fearless, I'd have dared the world to stare.

Dreaming wicked dreams, I'd have borne my plight,

A solitary figure, careless, flying in the silent night.

Twelve-fingered and a crooked forehead,

Too nosy, a mouth too vocal, legs too active, moving all day long,

'Unladylike' as they'd shout,

Fault after fault, in my body and the banned fiction I read

No wonder, they call me, strange and wild,

Yet in my soul, a fierce fire compiled.

For a woman like me defies their sight,

I've lived as her; I've known my mother's plight.

In woodland caves, I'd have made my home,

Filled with treasures, where I'd freely roam.

A world better than this, where screams of femicide

Aren't denied.

Whining and rearranging, always misunderstood,

Yet in my heart, a strength withstood.

The stories of the sister, the daughter, and the wife,

Apologies overdue for the labor of oppression's hues.

For woman like us, their truths defiled,

I've lived as them; I've been their kind.

Tahseen Nower Prachi is a writer whose head is a koi pond of micro tales too scattered to come down to her keyboard. For more of her little pieces follow The Minute Chronicles on Facebook.