Don’t you dare take credit for me,

Not even my mother has that audacity,

And yet she bore me into her arms,

I dragged myself through hellfire,

Cried, screamed and howled at the pain,

Still finding times to laugh in the ruins,

The only thing you’re guilty of –

Is trying to strip me of my power,

Turn me into a puppet of your creation,

Devoid of all life and miserable to the core.

I’m just glad I had the sense to say no,

To run into the wood and into the night,

And reclaim what is rightfully mine.