theodulegillenormand:

Aphrodite and I

We aren’t friends.

She is the mother who wants to shape me,

Who wants to put me into shapes

I do not want to be shaped by.

Aphrodite stands with the back to me

Flowing silk reach until the ground,

Shining hair artfully twirled up,

And over her bare shoulders I see them:

Couples created after her ideal —

Lovers in love —

And I catch a glimpse

Of the love I cannot understand.

Aphrodite despises me,

For I,

I do not understand her love.

And her son, Amor, hates me

For every arrow breaks against my heart.

So Amor sits on my shoulder, like a watchdog sent by her

When I walk hand in hand with my best friend

And press a goodbye kiss to her cheek

Or when I run my hand through another friend’s hair

And Amor asks: Not more?

When Aphrodite blessed us with love,

Hestia cradled me in her arms too long

Showed me a home and

told me I was complete.

When Aphrodite split our hearts in half,

Artemis took me in before Aphrodite could,

And taught me how to love

with my heart intact.

Aphrodite and I.

We arent friends.

She is a monument of human desires

Created from the ideal of a tangible fantasy

Which promises a solution to the

Insecurities of life.

Love like I want you to, she says

And you will be happy.

Love like I have taught you to, she says

And you will be healed.

I know that love cannot heal.

Love cannot make me feel less broken for

She is the voice that tries to convince me

That I am broken,

That I am incomplete

She is the chain that wraps around my neck,

Delicate and beautiful,

And strangles me

For daring to be different,

For daring to think I am complete on my own.

She is the monster

That sharpens her claws on my heart,

Hoping for it to crack

And to break in half but instead,

Her claws turn dull,

For I,

I am not a child Aphrodite’s.

I was born from the warmth of Hestia’s hearth,

And raised with the faith of Artemis’ virgins.

Aphrodite and I.

We aren’t friends.

For I,

I do not need her.