Medusa's story
is one that has been poured over
and over
pulling apart each letter until it is
not
a letter
anymore
shared and split down the middle
and torn
should have been
hers to tell
to speak
but no
so
maybe she needed to become a monster
she needed to become
of scales and snakes and scars
broken shards
and promises
to survive
unwilling to let this broken person emerge
from a broken history
dead before she could splinter.
Maybe she was already a monster
before the curse ever touched her skin
solidified by a world that wanted her dead
or
no longer innocent
no facade of control
no feeling of control
no control
at all.
Maybe monster was a blessing
a way of surviving
breathing in suffocation
melting the cage where she was born;
expansive enough to not know it's presence
until you grow
and it does not.
Maybe monster is not an insult to women
with snakes in their hair.
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