“Get out of my way,” she said,
the daughter of autumn you threw out of this village,
spat on with your undying prejudice.
Move aside, beggars of chance.
You only wanted my blood for a ritual,
to bring someone back to life;
an important figure in your twisted rose-thorn history.
Now that the job is done, you forget you ever knew me;
a winter-born child with foxglove irises.
You cast me away into the dark sea like
a baby in a basket, an orphan; useless, Moses of Egypt.
Oh people of Nara; even though I helped you once
against a plague, a famine with my witch-heritage;
the power of healing, now
you pretend you don't care at all.
Well, you know what?
If you don't mind the weeping, screams
of infants; of dying mothers on New Year's Eve,
then why should I risk everything for your ungrateful heart?
I wont; I won't put anything I own or hold dear
at risk for the people of this village..
You can burn for all I care in the wake of your dishonesty.
Covered in ashes, yellowing lace;
I'll be the last one standing and
maybe then you'll remember my name.
But it'll be too late; all those elegant
rooftops you were so proud of will
collapse in a domino effect because
you failed to take care of them properly.
Mr. Mayor, you failed to protect your people.
And now; glassy-eyed, the citizens of this
mosaic-looking city will die; one by one,
because the gods hate injustice.
And I don't care..
I really don't give a damn anymore;
which way is heaven.
All the sparrows have flown; left
my mother's farmhouse, heading
south for an eternal winter,
singing autumn wedding songs.
I set them free because
I just couldn't live with the guilt,
stabbing its claws in my Okinawa chest.
Nothing should stay hidden; caged, locked
away, not even in a shelter for too long.
See, I refuse to be like everyone else;
sitting here, watching as innocence dies;
little by little, a rose-leaf execution.
Samurai-style, suicide pact; vile..
Did you just expect me to lie down,
let you trample over my father's grave;
among the lilies and daffodils,
among the koi pond nymphs?
I won't give up my last salt-water lily
breath for your makeshift funeral.
You cowards never really liked us..
Our family was shunned, that's the truth.
But still he told me once after I was bullied in school,
“Daughter of mine, take all your anger,
your pain and mold it into something beautiful.
Promise me you'll use all those tears
and birdhouse dust, the ash of birthday wishes;
take it, use it because someday your
enemies will pray for your help.”
Surprisingly, he was right..
However, I'm done being the mat you step on,
exiting the temple; the place
you go to worship the sun-god on lavender hill.
I don't want to be a last resort for your temper,
someone you only remember when
you need a quick lighthouse rescue.
So go clean up your own mess, Nara;
city of fog and ash, city of
suicide notes, falling from
the sky like white-fox snow.
Do you want forgiveness?
“I'm sorry we took your innocence;
your Sunday picnics, birthday cake
frosting, your father's arms.
Sorry, girl; we took your childhood,
turned it upside down during
a mad king, psychotic emperor's reign.”
Oh but it's too late for that..
What do I have left now that
everything is starched, burnt to a crisp;
damp hair falling from my skull?
“A wicked doll”; that's what you
all call me behind my back as
I walk to the well, get water
for your hospital care.
Hypocrites, have you no shame?
I'm not the savage here!
When I scream, standing barefoot in an elfin forest,
my kimono ripped by the jealous breeze and
strawberry blood streaming like rivers of
angry adolescence down my wrist;
all the crows will hear.
I'm not a sorceress but that's what you claim
so that's what I'll be..
I'll cause a storm; Wendigo horror,
kitsune fire, I'll smash the glass heavens,
ivy clouds in my hands like pottery.
Oh I'll cook up a storm; disaster,
with wild ginger, snakebite poison, dragon's blood.
Oh Nara, city of burning maidens;
scorched virginity, you want forgiveness?
Try fairy tales because I'm done
with your counterfeit illusions.