Daughters on a Thorn Path

DAUGHTERS ON A THORN PATH
Daughters on the thorn path are born with bloody feet
Ancestors like to say they are made by other bloody daughters
But they are born
From fire and tears
Fire in their heads, fire on their tongues
Fire in the curve of their hips
Fire in their blood, they knew how to wield

I knew a fire descendant once
I saw her wield her flame
She did not cry out even though we hear her skin sizzle
Her smile betrayed knowledge her mocking audience knew not of
Mother said those daughters like to do that
Pretend the flames they made did not burn them
Pretend their feet did not feel all the blood they shed
But I saw her and found kin, I wanted what she had
The thrill of having the power to burn others even when I burn

So, I walked to the entrance to the thorn path
Deeper and deeper I walked
Until the thorns grew thicker and bigger and pointer
I became born of blood and fire and tears
And wielded fire my audience did not understand
But sometimes I wonder
What a road without sharp sticks feels like

Sometimes I look to my sisters on the smooth road
They shake their head at me and I do to them too
Do I not see the thorns on my feet they think?
Are they not able to see the snakes on their thighs I ask?
So, I and my thorn sisters ask each other
Would you rather have sticks in your feet and know it?
Or be beaten by snakes you do not see?