December 31st, 2013

Whether it is kept, or whether it is false, a promise must be made. It is so important to say something to the one who seeks comfort. So, say that you will stay forever, even if you plan to depart tomorrow. Say that you will love them for all eternity, even when another’s scent lingers on your skin. Love makes starving infants out of us. It is enough that we are naked; must we also be made to hold our aching bellies?

This is it, kids. Grab hold of the dog, and listen up. Know that I am still queen of the underworld. Ignore that I have climbed to the top of the mountain several times, only to be told it was a hill. What is important, is that I made the attempt under the impression I was conquering dangerous terrain. Ignore that I killed Hades, only to be told it was the doorman. I struck with determination and conviction.

The hellhound is not coming back. He has told me this in dreams, in that same language I know so well. He says it is time to be well-formed, and fill my height to the top. My cursive is bad, and my confidence is worse. I have fallen off the highest wall, so I know the pain of breaking every bone. It is not fair to say I fear pain, only that I seek to avoid it. Running and hiding are not crimes, but it is not wise to make a job out of this. I soak in what I think I must, flatten out my feet, and speak with authority. I take the sticky children‘s hands, tell the new dog he is a good boy, and I march forward.

December 31st, 2013

September 23rd, Year 22

The time has come for me to explore a structured darkness. If I am to be queen of my own kind of Underworld, then I must behave as such. Mine are the hounds, the chains, the horrifying beasts, and the strict command.

 
I live inside a tornado, where I see myself quickly ascending. I am thrown against concrete, when I have come to believe that I will reach the Heavens I held in my eye‘s view. This scene repeats itself, because I have not learned to step away from it. For this reason, tonight saw me amongst a group of women who claimed to know secrets that were once common knowledge. Modern witches with firm feet, not to be seen rising with the aid of a magical room. And while I wish I could say that I walked away with half an answer, broken in three but still of some use, I did not.

 
I made sure to listen closely for a reveal, but instead there was chatter about men who were good for nothing, but sexual gratification. They spoke of the glory of a wine-soaked mind. They argued over who would bring what dish, for the Samhain celebration. And when my lack of interest was noticed by the group of rotund women, they remarked that I was withdrawn because I do not trust feminine energy. They suggested I let them bathe me, brush my hair, and shower me with affection. I nodded submissively. Some other day I will allow this, of course, I said. Then I left with the same longing I had brought with me.

I will remember that no good can come of a coven that advertises itself in newspapers, and badly designed websites. I will also remember that I promised to go to another gathering, because the Catholic faith still has a hold over me, which means I must be loyal to my masochism.

September 23rd, Year 22

February 13th, Year 20

A slow percussion that never builds. The steady, disciplined cadence waiting for the words of an experienced shaman. Instead, there are the ramblings of a fool. The broken guitar strings of a child, that refused to lean how to play music. I am all those things, because we are all those things. A pile of useless flesh and bones. Partial prisoners of genetics, the rest being held captive by experiences lacked, nurturing deprived. The moon is hidden by the eclipse, the sun suffers the same fate.

I am scared of the physical pain. It is enough. There is no dignity to a life of chronic agony. No matter where it attacks, the rest of the body will bend and curve, before its time. Youth will fade with each passing nanosecond. Stolen, like Persephone by Hades.

Not long ago, I was hidden by the weight of a lover undeserving. Under thick blankets, we whispered words, fueled by lust and corrupted love. Oh, that I could mean those uttered phrases forever, each time repeated, increased in value. That some things, when delivered honestly, would become guarantees. That what defined me was absolute, unchanging, and held up by integrity.

I point a finger at a villain that does not exist, or it solely exists within me. Now, I am hidden again. It is the pain that covers me whole, so that the world does not see me. I say, I should have conquered the world, while I had the opportunity. When one is on their knees, defeated and humiliated, one thinks of all that should-have-beens. But, the truth is that the exact combination leading to victory is difficult to hit upon, even with skill.

February 13th, Year 20