The word "murderess" carries a heavy and intimidating connotation, evoking a sense of darkness and decay. It feels burdensome, reminiscent of something stagnant, much like withered flowers that have lost their vitality. This term is not just a label; it lingers with an unsettling aura that can be both haunting and oppressive.

In moments of solitude, the speaker finds herself softly repeating the word, almost as if it has a life of its own. It conjures imagery that adds to its weight, likening its sound to the rustling of a taffeta skirt, which contrasts with its grim meaning. This complexity suggests an internal struggle with the label, highlighting the deep impact such a designation can have on one's identity.