My demons

My demons,
though quiet.
are never quite silenced.

Calm as they may be,
they wait patiently
for a reason to wake,
take an overdue breath, 
and crawl back into my ear.

My solicitous nature

I always have this fear that one day you are going to discover that I'm not as great as you once thought I was.

Loss

You love me so purely only because you've already accepted the loss of me.

You know, deep in your marrow, that you’ll never hold me in your arms.
 You’ll never place that yearning kiss upon my lips. 
You’ll never press your face to the soft crown of my head, and inhale deeply.

You know this, and more than that - you know that I accept it.

Winter has gone, Persephone

My dearest,

Winter has come, and so swiftly passed us by. I have tended your garden to the letter of the instructions you left, but I find the tasks agonizing.

The flowers do not respond to me the way they do to you. I speak to them as I have watched you do, but they don’t seem pleased by my presence or words. I cannot blame them, why be pleased with me, when it was your soothing voice that was there before?

They miss you, and so do I. Your dog has been moping around the palace since you’ve left. I’ve taken him to play by the Styx a few times, but it’s as if his vigor has left him since you’ve gone back.

He’s just not the same when you’re gone, and neither am I.

I believe even father misses you! He’s risen from Tartarus twice! I was able to push him back the first time, but the second, I was forced to call my brothers! He said, “Her song,” and that can only mean the song you’ve sung to soothe him when he acts up.

He grows restless without you near, and so do I.

My love, would you be able to steal away from summer for a day, and spend it with me? We could meet on Ogygia, and I’ll bring Cerberus. We could play in the sand, and I could feel the touch of the one whom I need most. I need to feel your love and grace.

Chaos, Persephone. I’m in chaos without you. Pacify me?

Eternally yours,

Hades

My goal to achieve

I don't want to be like those other girls... the mainstream ones... I don't want to be infected by that wretched curse of conformation. I wish to stand out as much as possible but I know that won't help me be noticed by these nefarious, pernicious, blood-thirsty monsters that run our society. Those whose attention I wish to acquire so desperately.
Being relatively significant and popular would make me more exuberant about life and more active. But this.. this sick desire I have to please people is never going to leave my side and set me free into the world. It'll always be with me until the day of my demise. I want myself to let all care about judgement and pleasing people go... and live my life liberally... but there's always this thought in the back of my mind... is what I'm  doing the right thing? Will I get judged by other for what I'm doing? I wanna release my desire to please people, this is my quest.

La Douleur Exquise

Not being able to acquire something I crave most desperately is torturing my soul in its writhing pain and destruction. My eyes burn with desire as I watch him walk past in awkward grace. I tremble when I think of the minor yet achievable possibility of finding his love and warm attention. I push boundaries and find trust in many to tell them of my passion in gaining this boy's affection. He is beautiful in a way no other sees, yet one, one girl, gorgeous in her unknown nature has this love I desire to obtain so keenly.

I am the blank page before you.

Your innocence, senile in its unkempt nature, is slowly yet steadily asphyxiating me to the point of no return. The naivete that you posses has you startled and disoriented. You've been hurt before and I understand it, but unless you acknowledge your feelings for me, this stalemate is never going to end. This is a game to you because you've had so many women wrapped around your greedy finger. Well, my dear, you best prepare your king and queen because I won't stand for it, you will not use me like the others. It won't be soon before long that this game will end with a check mate.

Darkened Angel

In the land of Gods and Monsters, I was an angel. 

The needle is breaking my skin

I succumb to a struggle that isn't mine. I abuse because no one treats me right and when they do, they expect things in return. I succumb to the agony that numbs me day in day out. This excruciating pain of silence hangs heavy off my shoulders and I wonder why I've been chosen to live through such a pragmatic quandary. I'm on the edge and I'm falling off, I pierce myself one more time to rid this torment. 

My dearest jack

Your love is not blind. You value outer beauty over inner beauty, and who can blame you? Why would you be content with someone as foul as me when you can have all of those plastic barbies, molded to please you?

Cupid deserves love

No one thinks of the heartache streaming through Cupid's veins.

Separate entities

Steal my heart and make me feel whole again.

The insignificance of my existance

Sometimes, I feel as though no one really acknowledges my presence. No body really goes out of their way to make me feel special. My life thus far has been in a dreamlike state, spending each day floating further and further into this black abyss which palletizes its quintessence around my existence. If I left this world, would it make a difference to anyone? I'm not saying this to be ignorant or naive, I'm just genuinely curious about whether I am cared for by those I love; known to those I crave attention from; understood by those who feel the same way; and significant to those who can make a difference.

Persephone and Hades

The battle between good and bad has never been so intimate. The raw, undying love between Hades and Persephone will outlive generations because of its taboo nature. Everyone wants something they can't have...


...and that's the pain and torture of finding love...

...finding something beautiful and most desirable that is far out of reach.

Hades' inclination

When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,
but with a bed added.

Everything the same, including sunlight,
because it would be hard on a young girl
to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness

Gradually, he thought, he’d introduce the night,
first as the shadows of fluttering leaves.
Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.
Let Persephone get used to it slowly.
In the end, he thought, she’d find it comforting.

A replica of earth
except there was love here.
Doesn’t everyone want love?

He waited many years,
building a world, watching
Persephone in the meadow.
Persephone, a smeller, a taster.
If you have one appetite, he thought,
you have them all.

Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night
the beloved body, compass, polestar,
to hear the quiet breathing that says
I am alive, that means also
you are alive, because you hear me,
you are here with me. And when one turns,
the other turns—

That’s what he felt, the lord of darkness,
looking at the world he had
constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind
that there’d be no more smelling here,
certainly no more eating.

Guilt? Terror? The fear of love?
These things he couldn’t imagine;
no lover ever imagines them.

He dreams, he wonders what to call this place.
First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden.
In the end, he decides to name it
Persephone’s Girlhood.

A soft light rising above the level meadow,
behind the bed. He takes her in his arms.
He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you

but he thinks
this is a lie, so he says in the end
you’re dead, nothing can hurt you
which seems to him
a more promising, truer beginning.

Persephone's arils

"They tell the tale of my downfall in epic pomp and ceremony. It’s been written into the histories, described at length by orators, discussed in every household in the land. I have become a cautionary tale for young mortal maidens. “Don’t stray too far from your mother’s watchful eye in fields, or you shall end up just like her,” they murmur in warning tones.

And truly, Mother did her best to shelter me. 

Fiercely protective, Demeter was a wild lioness when it came to defending her little goddess. It was a mighty feat of maternal instinct that kept me safe from encroaching Hermes and deviant Apollo - both set as they were on possessing me. In truth, neither would-be suitor stood up very well to Demeter’s silver scorpion tongue. 

It still makes me giggle to think about the God of Light and Plague cringing as my mother interrogated him about the rumours of the nasty curse he put on poor Cassandra - damned with the gift of prophecy, never to be believed… all because she crushed his fragile ego. Now who could respect a husband like that? I breathed a sigh of relief when Apollo scurried off without the prize of my maidenhead. In truth, many tried, but not one succeeded in getting near me. 

Not until him.

Of course, I’d heard of him. Who hadn’t? 

Hades, God of the Underworld, was a mystery to all of us. While my father, Zeus, ruled the sky, and Poseidon ruled the oceans, he was content dwell underneath it all, searing fear into the hearts of living. Feared and loathed, he was said to rule the Underworld with an iron fist, jealously guarding the souls over which he governed, and incensed to the point of darkest revenge by those who attempted to cheat death. To common knowledge, he had never taken a bride. He’d never shown any interest in the concept of love, or stumbled anywhere near the danger of Cupid’s arrow. 

My future paramour… the consummate bad boy.

Not one to fear death, I’d never dwelled much upon the thought of him or his legend. Hades was a dark unknown to me, and that was how I hoped it would stay. I learned much later that unbelievable feats of magic do happen, and even the God of the Underworld could fall in love. 

Here was the unbelievable part - he fell in love with little, old me.

The first time I saw him, I was terrified. I mean, even he has to chuckle at his own dramatics - bursting through the ground like that, all fire and brimstone and doom? He was a muscle-bound hulk of a creature, complete with a terrifying, snarling guard dog with three heads! 

Yes, I took one look, hitched up my skirts and hightailed it in the other direction. He caught me, of course. Easy as taking a pomegranate from a baby.

You see, he’d been watching me for a long time. He’d seen the way Demeter resisted every possible advance on my person; ever watchful, ever vigilant. Yet he wanted me for his own.

Clearly, forcible kidnap was the only answer.

They call it “The Rape of Persephone”. It actually took place in Nysa, but my cults attribute the scene of my abduction to varying lands, depending on the cult. They paint it in ribbons of colour - terror imprinted upon my usually serene face. 

In truth, he was in no way violent with me. Sure, I screamed a lot - but it was from fright, not pain. He simply picked me up as if I was a feather, secured me to his girdle with rope, and gently carried me down to the Underworld. Away from the sun, away from the light, away from Demeter, away from my beloved fields - this was why I cried. 

(The deflowering came later, and I didn't mind one itty bit.)

The Underworld was fascinating, and not at all as alarming as I had imagined. 

Later concepts of hell were derived from Tartarus, a place in the Underworld akin to a prison of punishment. It was a horrific abyss of torment and suffering - or so I heard. I never saw it, for Hades didn't wish me to lay eyes on it. Instead, he had built me a beautiful residence in the Isle of the Blessed (sometimes called the Elysian Fields), and it was here that he first took me after capturing me from Nysa.

I had screamed and cried myself into a numbed silence by the time we reached the fabled banks of Acheron. I was so severely unnerved by Charon the Ferryman, that I closed my eyes as he paddled our party across the River Styx. Cerebus usually stood guard on the opposite bank, but on that day he was with us in the ferry, panting happily and occasionally licking my hand with one of his tongues. How I grew to love that dog… despite his formidable appearance, he was a sweetheart really.

By the time we reached Elysian, exhaustion had set in. Hades simply carried me up several flights of stairs in my new home, and laid me tenderly upon the bed, covered me with silks and stroked my long hair until I fell asleep.

When I woke, it was morning, and I discovered that there was light in Elysian after all. It was different than the light of the sun - muted and ethereal, but it still carried with it warmth. Cerebus was at my feet, barking happily at my wakened state, and soon Hades appeared at the door. 

As I looked upon him there, I noticed his beauty for the first time. He was all thick cords of muscle wrapped around solid bone structure, but there was a delicacy to the features of his face… I saw that now. His expression was one of affectionate wonder, as if he was gazing upon the most beautifully delicate flower on earth.

“Cherished one,” he began in his deep voice, “how I have waited for you.”

He came to me then, and kissed me deeply on the mouth. He tasted like the coolest, purest crystal waters. I began to drown in them before we came up for air, only to plunge downward into that passionate embrace once more. That morning, in the dappled light of the most mysterious place in existance, I learned the deepest pleasures of the flesh.

Afterwards I lay in his arms, with no shame of my nakedness. Any concept embarrassment was long forgotten - I was a Goddess, and I was wrapped in the embrace of the God who loved me. 

Hades smiled and laughed… oh, you should see him laugh, and the tender playfulness of our love warmed my heart in those long hours we spent in that bed. It was here that the myths would say a foul trickery occurred - Hades means of binding me to him forever - but I knew exactly what I was doing.

He fed me from his own hands, my lover. One, two, three, four pomegranate arils slipped past my lips and squirted their sweet juice upon my tongue. I would have eaten four hundred arils, if it meant I would always stay with him.

Meanwhile, Demeter in her rage had cast a terrible drought upon the Earth, and my father was obliged to intercede. Zeus dispatched Hermes to rescue me from the Underworld, which he did - snatching me out of Hades embrace and bringing me back out into the sun. 

I was bereft. Not even the reunion with my mother could console me, and it was then that I revealed my secret.

I had consumed food in the Underworld, and therefore as promised by the Fates, I would be condemned to spend an eternity there. I smiled secretly, for I knew that I would be returned to my love.

Surprisingly, Demeter did not cry. She was clever enough to declare that the fields of the earth would not bloom without the goddess Persephone, and so my fate was revised. 

For each pomegranate seed that passed my lips, I would spend a month in the Underworld as the wife of Hades. The earth would not feel sun, and it would not grow crops for these four months, and I would lie in the muted light of Elysian with my beloved. The rest of my year was spent in my fields, in my sun, with my family.

The four months that I spend with him give me the strength to survive without him for the next eight, and so life passes sweetly, year in and year out.

Do not weep for me, for my tale is not one of woe. There is a balance in all things; of the dark and of the light, of warmth and cold, of resistance and surrender, and often the darkness is not what we should fear. 

Love is to be found even in the most mysterious of places"

- Eloise

Hamlet's poem

Hamlet, let thee suffer in a bed o' thorns,

Sharp and dangerous they puncture your soul,

Let these holes release your humanity

Hiding under a layer of arctic ice,

You've cast your celestial spell on me,

Left me to wither in a state of angst,

Where upon me has been urged the duty,

To pray the rosary for thou mercy,

Violets and rue for thou guilt-heavy heart,

Pray you, love no more my absolute dear.

- Ophelia 

My Sweetest Downfall

Your tears don't fall, they crash around me, destroying my hope and shattering my desires. I want you to love me first, but I can't help but damage my own salvation and morals. You make me feel dead when I'm talking to you. Please make that spark reappear, like a little firework sizzling away under the pale moonlight. This time, I won't be hurt.

Dearest Cleopatra

My dear Cleopatra, my distaste for you lays within your ignorance and greed when it comes to men. You have so many utterly encompassed by you and you're caught up with this one man who has you on an emotional roller-coaster. I just don't understand it, you have a mesmerizing power when it comes to seducing men. You talk to them once and they're love struck, consumed by their affection for you. You don't intend to on account of your cold, cynical personality. You're beautiful, but not a goddess sent from the heavens... so please Cleopatra, teach me to acquire the desire of so many, so easily.

The insanity and dissolution of a lover

OPHELIA
O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown!
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword;
The expectancy and rose of the fair state,
The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers, quite, quite down!
And I, of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck'd the honey of his music vows,
Now see that noble and most sovereign reason,
Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh;
That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth
Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me,
To have seen what I have seen, see what I see!

The stairway to heaven

Retreat to nirvana. Climb up the steps of heaven with your heart to the left and your soul to the right. Weigh them to see if you're worthy to enter the only place that'll consume you whole. You've lost so many that you cannot bear to live on, breathe on, dream on, without seeing their faces once more. You were taken for granted during your life, and now that your gone, your condemnation shall haunt Hamlet for not appreciating the pure existence that pleased yet burdened him. The judgement of the Heavens shall see what he has done and drive to the very point of suicidal madness ...

Lament these crying angels

Acquiring confidence

Some may be professionals, others may not be, when it comes to confidence I'm utterly useless. I must learn how to grow myself some fortitude and determination and stare judgement in the face and tell it I don't care. I'm adamant to find myself someone, if only I just had some courage. Self-esteem and self- worth does not grow abundantly in this sunless bath of weeds, but it'll have to fester soon or else remain condemned for eternity.

Odi et Amo, Hamlet

This Hamlet thinks he is more divine and commendable than all others. He's rude and ignorant but entirely encapsulating. 

While I talk to him, I can sense that he's replacing me, word by word I can feel his attention and affection dissipating even though he emphasizes me how important I am to him.

I want to meet someone new so that I can distract myself from longing after him. I want Hamlet to feel pain for taking me for granted, thinking that I would always be his second option, there for him when he wants to be pleased. 

He acts like I'm invisible, like our friendship means nothing. I saw him in the corner embracing her, loving her, denying every second of it. 

His knife struck deeper than he thought and ruptured a love tendon so raw that only contempt and spite poured out as the golden ichor of my love. Hamlet, you really screwed yourself this time.