another bastard child of Zeus [poem] 

my father accidentally thrust me into being
with a poorly planned affair
though to be fair
all affairs tend to be short on planning
I lucked out
the centuries mellowing Hera’s ire
at another bastard child
another nail in the coffin of Her marriage
to that faithless fool
but I digress
my father was a wanderer
walked the world the way a bored teenager
trolls the neighborhood for something to do
a bored god is a dangerous god
and a bored man has wandering eyes and hands
at least the only damage was me
a little mistake planted in my mother’s womb
no one wants to tend a garden
of ill-sewn seeds and weeds
so needless to say he took no interest in me
but I flourished despite that
became this demigoddess of the dandelion
this mobile muse
carrying inspiration to places with
the tiniest hint of room to grow

-poem by Larissa Lee

child of Nyx [poem] 

when I tell you I’m a child of Nyx
I’m saying that the Night birthed me into being
She wove me out of the void into a blessed shadow
I’m no sparkling star
no bright and burning ball of fire
I’m the breathless space between celestial bodies
the overlooked crowd of hidden ones
the shapeless darkness that cradles
all this delicate life you have
know it to be fact
the children of the Night came into being
long before there were bodies to inhabit
we will still be here
long after the void swallows all the bodies back
into nothingness again

-poem by Larissa Lee

drizzle [poem] 

while others play the part
of wild hurricane and torrential downpour
I become only drizzle
they tear apart the world around them
remaking it in their wake
and I just
get things a little wet
my presence passing without fanfare
this would be a depressing truth
if I cared

-poem by Larissa Lee

places called home [poem] 

if I don’t remember you
do not think it a purposeful slight
my life has been too full of faces and names
for me to place you at first glance
it makes me feel lost in the middle of speaking
my chest aching as my mind scrambles to find you
to cough up your name
I’ve had a dozen different places called home
crowds of strangers washing over the years and miles
to draw up the outline of familiarity over everything
but nothing’s ever colored in

-poem by Larissa Lee

fix this [poem] 

I could fix this
I could run my shaking hands
over the sharp edges of our brokenness
until my blood glues us back together again
let me fix this
let me offer up my everything to
whichever gods we’ve angered with careless words
just please don’t say we can’t fix this
don’t say it’s too late to
sew up this gaping wound between our
bruised and battered hearts
I swear I can fix this
I swear I’ll do anything
if you’ll just let me try one more time
please just
let me fix this

-poem by Larissa Lee

asteroid [poem] 

he is an asteroid with planetary aspirations
like all he has to do is
get enough people to look up and notice him
and he’ll get to join the solar system’s special line up
like suddenly his tiny ball of dust will matter
swaying star signs into new alignments
like hanging around the cosmic belt
isn’t good enough for him anymore
I think he misses the mark
forgets how many bigger bodies will always exist
in this vast universe
his dim presence forever outshined by brighter lights
and his dark spots
never matching the intense darkness
between the stars themselves

-poem by Larissa Lee

my heart [poem] 

my heart is empty walls with dust outlines
after all the picture frames are packed away
it’s the old socks lost
between the machines at the laundromat
it’s that one drawer
where all the random junk collects
until you start calling it the junk drawer
my heart is the last forgotten potato
covered in eyes after weeks of being left alone
(there’s a metaphor there
about growing even in the dark)
it’s that spot no one else visits
and hiding there when you can’t breathe
it’s the ridiculously hot shower
after standing out in the rain
but it’s also the rain
and the sweat
and the tears
my heart is ocean
full of too much salt
to quench anyone’s thirst

-poem by Larissa Lee