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
Tag: Published
currently published and available in a book for purchase
Jack Frost [poem]
we’ve always had a strange relationship
in the way you’ve witnessed my lowest lows
hidden in the cold
winter has been my favorite season
but it’s never been particularly kind to me
you tweaked my nose with your frosty fingertips
while my world fell apart
it’s funny
that December is often when my world
chooses to fall apart
but still
I miss you after spring arrives
my bruised and battered heart more obvious
after the frost melts away
like a true winter’s child
I count the months until you come back to me
your first kiss always burns my lungs
but makes me laugh
giddy at your return and whatever it brings
winter is the season of dead things
of letting things go
I’m not sure how I’d handle it without you
even if you’re touch only ever hurts me
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
regardless
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
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
instead
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
Orion [poem]
I see Orion in the night sky and I think
this is lucky
that the sky is clear
and the pollution of the city lights can’t reach me here
and this
this is my sign
I see Orion in the night sky
and I think about coming home
the moments I found myself scattered around
my own Milky Way
I think about the long hunt
for that elusive beast known as Happiness
the trail lost and found
and lost again
until finally
this
I see Orion in the night sky
and I think about life
the constellation of events that made me who I am
that led me to this
all of this
luck is the brightest star on Orion’s belt
shining just for me
accidental sin eater [poem]
there were times
I couldn’t stand myself for being
less than
for failing at being lover
being woman
being mother
being friend
I played accidental sin eater
to a circle of unrepentant sinners
let their demons inside this heavy heart
and let myself be made unholy in their image
and I just
felt like each breath was stolen
from someone better worth that gulp of air
but you
you made me new
purified my hurt and gave me absolution
dragged me up from my bloody knees
and made my prayers less empty
you played god
with two steady hands and
the quiet grace that demanded I keep breathing
you convinced me I deserved to live
so thank you
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
hard won gifts from the dead [poem]
I’ve always had this weird relationship with the dead
one where I stand here
reaching back in time with my gratitude
sometimes wishing I could speak with them in person
for example
the first man to guide me along my spiritual path
died as I was just learning how to read
his books would come to me
in those twilight years between childhood
and adulthood
opening my eyes to the wonders of nature and magic
my grandpa died and taught me a lesson too
the news of his passing
a message passed across the ocean to me
I cried and promised him that
I’d end the strained silence between my dad and me
before it was too late
and then there was a miscarriage
an unexpected loss that scooped out a part of me
and made me face the lies I told myself
about motherhood and femininity
and my own dreams
later I cried for the girls who killed themselves
after violent hands took from their bodies
and the bullying outweighed their will to keep on living
they taught me how to weigh my own words
against the pain they may cause
to remember their power to hurt as well as to heal
and contrary to my naive heart’s belief
you really can’t save everyone
the dead are beyond this place
their souls somewhere only death can take you
but the lessons they’ve given me are hard won gifts
I can only repay by living
when I’m dead and gone [poem]
when I’m dead and gone
I want to be deconstructed
pulled into a million tiny pieces
I want my things given out like Halloween candy
to friends and family
and donation bins
I want my body parts to fix whatever they can
add a few more years to someone else’s clock
the rest of my body a pyre
turned into easily scattered ashes
in my deepest dreams there is no headstone
only fading memories
I want my existence to dissolve like salt in water
a perfect solution to dying
because death is the last step in a cycle that
keeps repeating
keeps repeating
birth and life and death and rebirth
it just
keeps repeating
and this round just happens to be over
it’s okay to let me go
I’ll be back
Ares on a mission [poem]
Father wasn’t known for his dabbling
unlike Zeus he’d long known
how to avoid planting his seed in fertile fields
his conquests were purposeful excursions
his targets
only the worthy specimen
a warrior woman with fire in her blood and
a keen desire to grab life with both hands
he found my mother at a shooting range
her hair clipped back with militant precision
as she hit her mark
again and
again
it was lust at first sight
they shared a tumble in a tent somewhere
searing a brand of life into her unsuspecting womb
a handful of photos nine months later
were proof enough
he called it mission accomplished
he left his modern day Amazon to handle
the raising of his new little warrior
willing or not
she’d carry on his legacy
of the heated thrill of a good fight and
the desire to win it
holy ground [poem]
I made love to a god once
stretched out beneath his hands
an altar of incense smoke and fresh flowers
I breathed his name as an invocation
called his body into my body
and made to worship him
like any good priestess would
we moved together
the sacred dance of instinct and life and pleasure
and I became blessed
became an initiate of his mysteries
became a new woman at his touch
this temple has long been consecrated
this body made holy ground
wild belief [poem]
I believe in magic
I believe in the rush of power
after a full moon ritual and
the tingling of hands clasping hands in celebration
I believe in karma
I believe in accepting the fact that
I’m obviously paying for lessons I didn’t learn
the first time around
I believe in happy endings
I believe in the warmth of coming home
to someone who holds your heart
sacred in their hands
I believe in second chances
I believe in the opportunity for you to try again
to make amends for your mistakes
I believe in ghosts
I believe in the way specters of my past haunt me
dripping ectoplasm down my spine
until I shiver from their eerie memory
I believe in prayer
I believe in the feeling of hope that lifts you up
when a prayer is finally answered
I believe in you
I believe in the mask
and the person hiding behind it
seeing them both
with eyes so open to the idea of believing again
I am always full of wild belief
Cernunnos [poem]
I met you in a circle
arms crossed over your chest in prayer
as you called my name
Cernunnos Cernunnos Cernunnos
it was strange
the way you showed up unannounced
a new voice in a crowd of familiar sounds
I watched you closely
heard the way your pulse sped
when the priestess spoke of me
come by flame
come by fire
come now whom we desire
you wanted this
wanted my presence
as you celebrated the turning of the wheel
so I came
stood by and played witness to your quiet intensity
witches come in so many different flavors now
each unique in their own way
you gave solemn worship by the altar in sunlight
lord of the hunt
lord of the field
lord at whose altar we kneel
but your body
danced around the bonfire at midnight
with wild abandon for me too
this
this is why I kept coming when you called to me
not for the candles
or the offerings of cakes and ale and roasted meats
I came for the untamed in you
I will always dance with the wild ones
Larissa Lee 