Unlikely Enemies

Something made her choose
Which child to maim
And claim as her own
Which child to bruise
To confuse, to leave alone
I never grew properly
Like a stunted and diseased old tree
And my sister, she exudes fecundity
Baroness Barrenness that is me

She leans down, her gentle voice soothing me
But inside I seethe. Her intentions are pure
Of that I am sure but she is, was
And always will be
My lifelong enemy

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