Ragyo may be gone
(in the physical sense,
for she is now
left to linger
in ruins,
torn apart
by her own
masterful doing)
but...
it isn't that simple:
you see, Satsuki is still alive
an aching, glorious, painful cacophony
of neuroses and
somehow, she is left almost
completely alone to
bake in the heat of
what happened to her.
Nothing that looked
like kindness bloomed within Ragyo;
anything that could be
construed as some
sort of "maternal instinct"
died an agonizing death
long before Satsuki was ever conceived.
Pain and suffering surrounded her life,
of inappropriate hands gliding across Satsuki's body
and constant degradation in the form of spitfire insults,
stinging consdescencion and malicious judgment
spite masquerading pity and hateful fear mongering,
All of this insanity masquerading as normal conversation,
wherein aloofness and distance was supposed to be love
but it was more of an ill-defined haze to
the outside world. ("Concrete" has a strange definition
when you cherry-pick how to define words
in attempts to gaslight things in your favor.)
No one could listen to Satsuki's plea bargaining for help
because mothers are supposed to have harsh rough edges:
femininity is built from soft, cold, passion and loud, hot, intensity,
ambition spiraling out of control and articulate madness,
fiery hatred and icy silence,
all of which made its way underneath the radar,
the blind eye turned from Satsuki made the girl weep.
She grew up, forced to make sure she was heard,
her voice booming and clear,
her posture confident.
Satsuki's recovery will not be stomped upon!