CW: Mentions of domestic abuse. Allusions to internalised ableism.

I was born after midnight,

Beneath the wild east wind.

You said I came from heaven

Whereas others saw an omen.

As I grew older,

My skin grew paler

And my limbs grew spindly.

The villagers warned their babes:

“Stay away from her.

One of the wicked ones she is.”

I asked Father about the wicked ones.

He gave no reply.

I asked you, and you simply said

“They play tricks and hide in trees.”

When I turned ten, I couldn’t lift a plough.

Not with my clumsy, stupid limbs.

Fingers of sunlight scratched my pale skin.

Father told me to stay inside,

For it was clear I could earn no keep.

You fed me, cherished me, dried my tears.

Made my prison a home. You pretended

That I couldn’t see your tired eyes. But I knew

Your smile was a pretty lie.

Father’s gaze grew hard and hateful.

His hours at work grew longer.

When he came home he’d sneer

And say I’m no child of his.

You defended me.

That made him snap, and

He struck your face with a fireplace poker.

Screamed at you with a devil’s rage:

“You are wicked to keep this beast!

You did consort with the wild ones!”

Spindly limbs wrapped ‘round his neck.

He was dead just before midnight.

I was gone a second later.

I didn’t spare a glance at you, lest I see

Your fearful tears.

Under night’s shawl, I crept away,

Into the deepest wildest woods.

Searching every tree from limb

To root, for the wicked ones who hide.

For home, home, where I had to go

Where I could cause no fear.

Where I could be no one’s daughter.

Where I couldn’t see your tears.

The wild east wind blew.

A wind that chills men healed

My skin. Mist on the ground

Formed long spindly limbs.

They whisked me away before Dawn’s first

light. Did anyone know I’d gone?

It didn’t matter.

I was back where I came from.

But when the wild wind blows again,

I remember your face, your warmth.

The love of someone

Who thought I was heaven,

When everyone told me hell.

C. M. Simmons is a Melbourne-based writer who specialises in poetry and short fiction. He’s a proudly ADHD writer who loves sci-fi, fantasy and fanfiction. You can follow his personal Instagram on charliesimmons8088, and check some stories on FanFiction.Net under the name caffeine fiend 117. Follow him on Instagram: @charliesimmons8088