#inklings.

one. swallow a teaspoon of stardust, a tablespoon of moon crust. chew it until your teeth chip and its gravely texture finds its way down your throat.  repeat until you feel  yourself to be as weightless as the cosmos.

two. start a garden. pull the  stars from the skies and name them after roses, and lilies and daisies. disregard the way they reach for the heavens they no longer belong way up there where no one can touch them.

rotting bones and an aching heart, bleeding and covered in reddened band-aids as if it could be fixed. that tragedy you wear smells like puddles of saltwater that find the ground after

running down a dripping nose and making it just past the jaw. you wear your tragedy like a perfume, and we can all smell it.

breathing becomes forgotten a distant memory within a terrified mind.

one. aphrodite removes her blessing and you resemble a  stranger. it disgusts you, and you break a mirror from anger.  all that’s left is a marred image staring back at human flesh.

two. the ambrosia in your veins is picked out slowly, and it burns. your flesh begs to be ripped off, fingernails leaving skin red and raw, knuckles bloodied and bruised form beating into walls.

three. you scream at the skies above, demanding your rewards. you scream until your voice disappears. the heavens thunder and they laugh.

ii. the man at the ball called me pretty. stroked my cheek and left me gasping for more with reddened lips and widened eyes. mouth touched to mine and i sighed.  ( THE CLOCK STRUCK TWELVE BEFORE I COULD SAY GOODNIGHT!)

iii. the prince is close behind me, but the castle is further away. he calls to me --- that false name i gave him before the clock began to ring.

i stop and turn to him. ( THE BELL IS RINGING, FALSE PRINCESS. THE BELL IS RINGING AND YOU HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF CAUGHT BETWEEN A LIE. )

one. stand straighter. they always say that gods  graceful. better than humanity will ever be. wear a graceful smile - one that speaks of something eldritch beneath your bones. there’s something holy that stretched beneath your skin, a type of false divinity that lies beneath. 

two. understand that godship is not given. pray to your idols and  hope that they grant your wishes to join them. find an apollo and invite him to bed. promise him drunken kisses in exchange for a taste of divinity on your tongue.