How do we take control of our story once we’re dead?
How do we write the wrongs that men have written
Over and over and over again
Seared into our minds like a brand
You see, we don’t see you for what you were
We only see you as how you were told
Just another hedonistic woman in history whose own downfall was herself
Its all out of your control now
Your image is wrecked and ruined
You’ve been forgotten and ******
By both the gods and the people
And the worst part is
Is that no one can ever truly fix that
And it makes you think
How many times has this happened?
Again and again and again