Persephone’s memories [poem] 

you come back to me with the first snowfall
cold and biting
my soul recognizes the need
for all the death you trail behind you
but I must’ve drank deeply of the river Lethe
because I feel like
this is the first time I’ve found you
all over again
like we haven’t harvested the fruits of love before
I call you Hades as a joke
but your smile is sad
I don’t understand why your smile is sad
but you offer me your hand
tell me I’m all yours
tell me I’m so fucking beautiful
so ripe for the picking
I remember being consumed by you
just as the first bite tears into my tender flesh
your fingers leaving behind dots of decay
until I’m nothing
swallowed by the hard soil and carrion beetles
maybe next time I’ll remember dying for you
maybe next time I’ll turn back before it’s too late

-poem by Larissa Lee
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Hades does not want your suicide [poem]

put down the shaking pill bottle
the sharpened blade
the loaded gun
I don’t need you here yet child
your willingness to join me is an unwanted offering
I do not want this sacrifice of young flesh
harvested before its time
I have never asked
for the blood of the living to feed the dead
I will never ask for you to lay your body
across my altar like a feast
for the ghouls haunting your heavy heart
I prefer you breathing
crying and screaming or numb and silent
but always breathing
you will stand before me when your day comes to pass
not a second sooner
do not try to cut in line to get here
I do not want you yet

-poem by Larissa Lee

three brothers [poem]

image

when we rose to power
my brothers and I made a pact
we agreed to split the realms three ways
each taking on one for our own
we were young gods still
so we kept it simple
we drew straws
not really thinking it through
Zeus got the skies
king of us all
he also got a constant zap of static
from everything he touched
I watched him learn how to hide the cringe
but no one
not even a god
can stop the telltale crackle of electricity
Poseidon had it harder
his watery kingdom a true change
from all he’d ever known
sometimes he forgets how to breathe air
and I know for a fact
his skin dries viciously when exposed to the sun
my brothers will tell you I had it worst
I became the ruler of the dead
but had to become like them to do it
I’m a little dead inside
a little cold and grey and unmoving
it doesn’t bother me
but then again
nothing bothers a ghost

-poem by Larissa Lee