Is this what my life
was destined to be?
Discarded in broken down misery?
Is this what was planned
What He, that man He
Had formed, had made
had planned?
Is this what he saw in me?
A maiden washing dishes while the fire blazes
Cloaked in black, lined in white
shackled, piously plotting?
Is this what I married?
An ominous absentee
Proprietor of my misery
The one who pushes and prods, invisible?
Is this what my life
was destined to be?
A helper, a healer,
Eraser of beauty?
A dutiful leader
of many children
A mother, a wife
devoid of humanity?
Is that what he wanted?
My husband, my God
My leader, my officer
This man who would have me burned at the stake before denouncing him?
This man who shuns me every night?
This man who makes me search for him?
This man… This man?
Is this what my life
was destined to be?
Locked in a habit
of uncertainty?
A follower, a sheep
Awake, not asleep
Not girl nor woman
Nor human nor person
A thing not a being
A slate not a grain
A babe not an animal
A holy not a fallible
An example not an individual
A sister not a sibling
A steady not a lost
A content not an aggrieved
A nun… not a familiar?
Is this what my life
was destined to be?
Discarded in broken down misery?
Or is it the sheer fact I question
Which makes me all I long to be?
A person of familiarity?
