I. Hera Makes Ambrosia Tea From Her Keurig For The Girls Who Leave Her House Each Morning, To Cleanse

i danced with dionysus with wine-misted eyes and skin sticky with glitter.

i kissed hermes behind a 7/11 in a country whose name I don’t remember.

i caught hekate’s eye in the misty glint of the scrying crystal i hide from my roomate.

apollo touched my hand in the midst of a concert, deaf and blind and wide awake.

i winked at aphrodite as she twirled across the room, lips painted pink and confetti in her hair.

the gods are dead but their shadows wander through us.

lock eyes with a mortal and they’ll find you.

by salvadormaliii

Time passes you by...

Slowly and all at once as vivid as the shining amber lights on the wet concrete at night.

Walking on that burnt orange stone, home, home.

I look to the past and it's forgotten.

I'm standing outside in the driving rain, it ushers me away.

Pressed up to the window panes, fogging up sodden glass.

Looking at a stranger's past.

That little room with its sandy paint and coffee curtains.

Lights snapped on and Nora Jones sings out of the stereo.

It's soft and milky.

Clouding and brewing softly.

Time.

Past is present and present is future.

And it's all already passed me by.

I flip through shining photos and those familiar faces smile at the ghosts behind the long, lost cameras.

Choppy hair and sharply slit winds softened by a flash decades ago.

Moments so dear, a sun so golden, people lost to ticking clocks, they forgot long ago.

And they kept it all down.

Those shining cards with their little people.

The faces you see in the warm ripples of a bath.

No malice, just ghosts.

Ghosts of happy days and burnt orange stones.

Do you remember their names?

Did they ever learn mine?

I walk and I know I'm already gone.

Just a face in a photo.

I stand faded in smooth cards on Christmases and birthday nights in orange lights.

Smiling and laughing.

Running on tiles, on wood, on carpet, sand and stone.

I stand young and small.

I doubt I could even tell you why these photos exist now.

But they did.

Those people breathed that long lost air and time thawed once the flash faded.

We carry on.

Until the next photo's taken

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The gods have always been there. Apollo pops down to say hello and gloat and flirt with some random mortal. Athena comes down to chat and argue with the scholars and those too poor to get into school but still smart enough to rig running water to their houses. Persephone will make your garden overflow with crops and flowers if you leave a dog bone for Cerberus on your doorstep. Dionysus makes fun of the European Jesus and turns teenagers water to wine if you plant grape vines outside your window and leave water on the windowsill. Artemis will come down and hunt, looking for excuses to fight and grapple. If you leave out a peacock corsage for Hera the day before your wedding she’ll bless it and Hestia will provide your feast.

The gods have always been there, but they have not always been kind.

Women cut their hair jagged and run their eyeliner so that Zeus won’t find them attractive. People have to throw offerings into the sea before entering and women don’t wear revealing outfits for fear of attracting Poseidon’s attention. Hera will send Artemis to kill any man who she thinks is unsuited for his wife. Apollo can’t stand a one night fling. 

The gods have always been there, but they have not always been kind.

Maybe I was destined to forever fall in love with people I couldn’t have. Maybe there’s a whole assortment of impossible people waiting for me to find them. Waiting to make me feel the same impossibility over and over again.

Carol Rifka Brunt

(via

purplebuddhaquotes

)

Boyfriend

Some girls say they don’t need a man. Some girls say men and women should be treated equally. A lot of girls don’t think boys should be protective or get jealous. Not me. I can’t go a day without asking my dad, brothers, or guy friends to help me. I definitely need a man. I don’t really feel the need for men and women to be treated equally. I want a relationship where I am my man’s little woman straight out of the 50s. And I daydream all the time about a man who will beat up anyone who he feels is hurting me or hitting on me without a second thought. I want a man who will fight other guys for me. And win. I’m looking for a man. Not a boy.

Requested! Mountain goat + Books + Bisexual (plus Doll Skin)

The world burned while Atlas watched (no, that isn’t right) Atlas died screaming, trying to save those he’d watched over Aphrodite is about romantic love (no, that isn’t right) Love comes in many forms but it always leaves a mark - Aphrodite Artemis fell in love once (no, that isn’t right) Artemis loved the maidens she raised, the trees, she loved all who tried Peresphone was manipulated by the King of Underworld (no, that isn’t right) Peresphone chose power, chose love, chose freedom, she chose Achilles was golden (No, that isn’t right) Achilles was rusted, bruised and bloody. He was in love

The Myths Are Wrong by Abby S (via fireandsteelofangels)