Isn’t that what you taught her?
With every remark from your greasy lips,
That pushed boiling tears
To sizzle down her face.

Didn’t you teach her to grit her frozen teeth and endure the baron cold?
Didn’t you teach her to wear pain like a tiara,
As though it makes her something great?

Relentlessly fighting against your grip.
Relentlessly screaming that she didn’t like what you said.
Relentlessly giving every ounce of herself to earn the part of cosplaying your daughter.
Relentlessly writing the truth as she lived it.

Didn’t you raise her to chew up lies,
like nuts and screws with steel teeth?
Why do you want her less for being the personification of your creation?