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They say she waits on the widow’s walk.
Watching the sea.
Hoping for his return.
Cute.
Love is a myth.
The bedtime story girls get before handing them a collar.
I was given threats and bruises.
Not lullabies.
I grew teeth where innocence should’ve bloomed.
I’ve heard the fairytales.
Read the poems.
Burned them all.
They raised me to kneel.
I learned to bare my teeth instead.
They tried to tame me.
I bit back.
Hard.
Pain can be turned into power.
If you’re twisted enough to use it.
I wear mine like eyeliner.
Sharp and black.
A monster in mascara.
I don’t wait for ships.
I sink them.
If I’m on the widow’s walk.
I’m not the woman searching the horizon.
I’m the widow with fangs.
And a silk web.
