It means they win.
It means I am a broodmare, nothing else -
kicking against the pricks.
It means the death of everything I call myself,
all value in my heart,
my mind,
my soul.
It means my every feeling
is a lie.
It means
I cannot trust my soul.
Pile the stones upon me, then.
Cut me, brand me;
Tear out my intellect.
I will bear children I do not want,
turning my searching eyes
to happiness in slavery.