Long flowing locks of beauty,
The apple of your eye.
Trapped in a tower—
Built by your design,
Dark and twisted,
Fueled by your vanity.
I cannot cleave myself from your side;
You would rather I sooner die
—by your hands—
Than be freed by a stranger.
Let me out
Let me out
Let me out
I scream and I beg,
And yet cannot set myself free.
And still you play the victim.
Claiming I have taken aim
At your “mother’s heart.”
That my words wound you
Down to the depths of your soul.
I have wounded you with my questions,
I have wounded you with my wondering,
I have wounded you with my curiosity
Of the world outside this tower.
But,
It's not about you,
It was never about you.
I exist for myself,
I am not your extension.
My desire to be free
Is not the same
as my desire to be free from you
I wish to be free of you.
I balance on the edge of my window,
Dreaming that I could fly.
And in my dreams I jump.
Hear me!
For once just listen!
If I could just let down my hair.
But the moment I reach behind,
You are there again to reseal my bind.
Poem Commentary
So, I have always been entranced by fairy tales. Fiction has had my heart from the moment I could read. There was something about being whisked away to fantastical other worlds when my own felt foreign. One such feature of fairytales that really piques my interest is the relationship between mothers and daughters. And whereas I love my own mother deeply and we are close, there have been times when things she has done or said have turned my world on its axis but for her it was just another Monday. And like that's fine, no one grows up without some form of hurt from their parents, but at the same time there are moments where I can really relate to Rapunzel, which is the story this poem is inspired by.
Those feelings of being trapped, or like anytime I say anything to defend or differentiate myself from her gets turned into me being the bad guy. And like, I just think that's crap. And so this poem was written like right after my own mother and I had an argument, but was later changed to fall more in line with the story of Rapunzel.
I think one of the beautiful things about poetry, and fairy tales, and just fiction in general is that they can be the vehicles to express very real thoughts and emotions.
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