the story demeter tamps down (2)

[steep pendant]

you know my name,
the vile, scattered pieces of my glory,
but not what really happened— never that.

you've heard all about
vengeful hades,
selfish hades,
my forbidden taking of what I coveted like the night covets the stars--
and they say she screamed, but all I heard was adoration
to me, to the way I took her away and
I saw the hunger in her that trusted the hunger in me.
it satiated some wretched part of me—
brought me close to redemption,
as close as I will ever come.

they should all blame me,
but they only blame her
as though she asked for my footsteps in the meadow that day—
she loved it, but she wouldn't have asked for it, the way she was back then.
she hadn't yet learned how to be allowed to love something for only herself,
so I taught her, and the whole world screamed
because I showed her the power she'd had all along.
her mother, furious, demanded I bring her back
she was convinced I'd turn her into a monster—
but by then that girl loved me, and
I had to tell her mother the truth—
she was born a monster, far worse than me
and now she had an appetite for destruction.
I told her mother, unapologetically, that
when a girl in a field looks at you with eyes like a sundial—
looks at you like you hung every star in the sky,
you take her
just like you take everything you've ever wanted
you play right into their hands
and prove to them just how
they say blood r
runs thicker than water i
but they forget— so does g
pomegranate juice. h
rivulets down a face t
entirely unblemished by they all were.
the ways of the vast, tireless gods.

I tried to keep her that way, perfectly preserved, in the land in which she thrived,
but she was still brought back aboveground,
half the year— she brought with her those foreboding autumns,
and silent winters, her mother thought it was her way of putting up a fight
but only I know that it was a letter to me, during the times we were apart—
she knew I loved the dying things
and made sure I saw them every time I looked up.

eventually, my brother came to terms with
my apparent "abduction" of what wasn't mine
"she's good for you," he'd said, that crown propped arrogantly on his head.
I hadn't allowed him to forget that I, too
have a crown, and it is made up of all the people
who scream for the resurrection I could never— would never give.
"no— she's the very worst for me
that's what makes it all the better."
was it so bad for me to uncage the monster
who yearned to be freed? all I did was offer the change she craved—
and she took it, a crimson bite that ran down her chin like solitude.
this is my queen, who drinks from the river styx
and dines on all the broken souls.

my brother did not like this reaction but
I had never been kind, and had been treated as such.
in a way, my parents unknowingly created me
to be the king of the everlasting flames,
by treating me like I belonged there from the start.
treat a boy like a terror, and he'll grow fangs.
still, they all managed to act surprised
when I tore apart all that I saw.
they were worried, at first, that
I would do the same to her
but this is the woman who smiles with blood on her teeth and misery in her hands—
someone like me could never shatter her.

so, to tell you what really happened—
there was a boy
who was as ageless as the earth's molten core
but who saw a woman picking wildflowers
and immediately felt all of time
unfurling in his clasping hands.

there was a boy
who became a king, held all the dying souls
in his two hands, only to realize that
it is much too heavy to hold all by himself.

so he finds a girl
a girl born to be ruthless but forced to be gentle
a girl who craved everything bad he did to her
and he allowed himself to drink it in

there was a boy
who became a king, and everyone acted
surprised, but he was a king of his parent's own making.
he was forced to drink the blood of his own dying happiness
and, after a long while, he learned to love it so much that
he made everyone else drink it too.

when a boy
who has never loved anyone
finds a girl who loves only him,
the world burns down—
and everybody learns to watch it happen.

now, there is a king
who loves a girl with a heart like fire and sun—
she chars him often, but he still cups the flames close
and he watches the way she razes the earth.

is it really all that bad if a boy
finds a reason to be glad he's a god?

[astral wave]

@steep pendant has sent a notification! - @teal condor @autumn chasm @gleaming jackal @formal garden Use /help for help.

[steep pendant]

hades' side of the story.

[teal condor]

RAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH

I LOVE YOU

IM SO EXCITED TO READ THIS

[steep pendant]

YAY

[autumn chasm]

TOE CURLING

SCRUMPTIOUS

WRITING

[steep pendant]

THANK YOUUU

[unborn hawk]

Is is a short story or a poem?

[steep pendant]

it is based on the story of persephone and the pomegranete

[near wasp]

*it is based on the

story of persephone

and the pomegranete*

- schnukems.

[steep pendant]

it is a poem!

there's two parts though

[unborn hawk]

I see i see

[steep pendant]

it's essentially a retelling

[astral wave]

@rotund quiver is now following @steep pendant.