Powerless

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The chambermaid knows secrets
Each bed she made told stories

of lonely nights

and passionate affairs

and children who hid from ghosts.
She carries the burdens
of things she wished to not have known
She is nameless and faceless,
an object without soul.
Yet somewhere deep inside her
the little girl she knew runs free,
taunting her with haunting eyes of solidarity.
The chambermaid looked to the mirror
and no longer saw this little girl
She said unto herself.

“Who is this person in the mirror,

this shell of what once was?

The property of someone else, I will not live with love.

I will not speak another word nor betray the secrets of those alive.

But what is my purpose anymore?”
And for the first time in a long time
there was fire in her eyes.
Her lord and lady came to find
their home was not quite clean.
The fires now were embers and the beds were left undone
Outraged with surprise, they cried,

“what is this mess I see!”
That was before they found the chambermaid,
asleep in pools of red,
for she took a knife to the muscle in her mouth
and cut out all her tongue.
Powerless in a cruel world
she was the bottom of the chain
So she took control of what was hers
And never spoke another word.





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