you claimed you cared -
would die for

me
but you fought with Mother.
consumed with rage for
something she didn't do.
you killed Mother.
cruel thoughts of hatred
grew and were nurtured within
me.
you became angry and sad
because she was gone - forgot
it was your fault.
convenience seems to love you.

more than Mother did.

you drank.
and drank.
...and drank.
tavern was your new home,
alcohol and smoke your second skin.
I feel such hatred towards you and your
greed
swagger
breath
actions
'friends'

you dragged me to your 'home'
stripped me of my garb
showed me off like a trophy won
there was no mention of a Daughter.
just a harlot, a whore.
you accepted the high bids
I was never in my own home
at night.

my wardrobe grew scanter -
more daring and revealing -
shinier and silkier -
sexier
you took away my shoes
"It's unladylike to engage in
lovemaking
with feet covered."
as if a slut was ladylike.
you lied. you don't care.

I was ravaged repeatedly
hit and abused
my body was beautiful
but not meant to be displayed for
a price.
I danced for your friends nude,
however they wanted me to,
whereever they wanted me to,
as a favour to my Father.
if you could be considered one.

you allowed more than one man
more than one drunkard
more than one fool
to ravage me together, all at once
I bit back cries, thinking I
deserved this.

you joined in on the fun
groped and fondled me -
your own Daughter.
you let your seeds of fertility
enter me
invade me
they mingled with seeds of nearly
all
the men in the village
but you didn't care.
you enjoyed this... this
newfound erotic pleasure

I faked countless orgasms
I licked countless men
in places beyond imagination
I allowed all to have me
own me
for a night -
for a price.
look at what you made me.

yet I rose above you, Father.
I ran off with one who opened
the world to my perception.

you never found me to be good enough.
ever.
I was Embraced, and with such I am
perfected.
and you can't have me.
you or your tavern friends.
you will never have pleasure from me again.

I was perfected,
made a place for myself.
I have responsibilities
beliefs
respect.
beyond what you could have after
ten lifetimes.

you deserve nothing but my anger.
you took away my innocence,
showed my skin to all.
and with these last words..
you are no more to me.

my anger will never be lost
but you mean nothing to me.
not anymore.
someone loves me.
you, however...
you will never feel
joy from being loved.

you deserve none but this criticism.
and it is yours.
so wallow in your sadness.
I hope the Darkness of Hell
consumes you without a
second
thought.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Haernos, in the year 138 MA.