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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Dark · #1802079
Its right before Psyche goes to meet her new husband on the hill.
Its almost time.
My sleeves drenched
by my sister’s sobs.
Its almost time to meet
my future husband.
The veil I wear
forces my head down
as if its a burden.

Aphrodite's vengeance
has hit me, leaving its own
form of magical gaping face wounds.
Her mark chased off my potential
suitors, destroyed my chances with mortal,
human, normal men.
Now I shall climb that hill
the Oracle spoke about.

Its time.
My heart pulsates
As my march
Approaches the hill.
I can hear it in my ears,
Loud and obnoxious.
It blocks out my family’s
Concerned words.
The Oracle said a creature
Would take me as his wife.
Is he a monster?
I must assume so.

I should have stopped
going to temple during the rush.
I should have stopped
when they called me Aphrodite.
There’s nothing I can do now.
Goodbye, World.
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