Am I Just Gaslighting Myself?
The things I’ve gone through are too much
To believe it was all
Natural.
How, in a world of knowledge, do I not know
Whether what I’m feeling is true or
Artificial.
How are people supposed to see me
If I’m not as resilient as
Stone.
I keep thinking about how fragile
My heart and mind are on the inside of their
Shells.
People look up to me in admiration
But I fear the day they find out I’m not
Perfect.
The day their world shatters into thin pieces
And they see their idol as
Flawed.
Why has my shallow perspective
Forbade me from seeing
Color.
My life has been swallowed and consumed and corrupted, used for entertainment
Of people who feed off others who live in
Monochrome.
Through the Hunt
Diana was indeed a magnificent sight: Her smooth skin, youthful and athletic shape, grace-filled turns and tosses, and as she awoke, the sun had just begun peeking through the brush in an almost taunting manner. As the sun shone upon Her bare body and warmed Her skin, She realized it was early morning. To Herself, She thought, “Oh, how I enjoy the chaos of early morning hunts.” She rose to Her feet and, undressed, ran to wake Her huntresses.
“Get up, my fine-looking maidens, so that we may hunt for boar and deer,” Diana tells them. Her maidens obeyed at once and prepared by dressing in their peplos; meanwhile, Diana donned Her crescent Moon-shaped tiara, put arrows made of pure silver in their quiver, covered in a knee-length peplos, and grabbed Her silver bow. With that, She finished adorning Herself with everything She needed for a successful hunt.
The Goddess of the Hunt, Diana, and Her huntresses set out for the wilderness in search of wild beasts to kill. Her devotees acted as if they were divine beings using the hunt in an attempt to lessen their angelic fury. As silent as the dead of night, their footsteps were as stealthy and as quiet as their focus.
Diana stopped next to a pond strewn with sparsely scattered small, white blooms and signaled to Her godly creatures to cease their movement, and they obeyed.
Diana squinted as she peered into the trees, shielding Her brother–the Sun– Apollo, from Her eyes…
She was ethereal and soft, pure of heart and mind. A white beacon encased by colors of the Earth. Such exquisite pulchritudinous could only be found in Her, a virgin goddess. Her figure demanded attention and always managed to steal it…
She spotted movement. “A boar,” she signaled to Her huntresses–both maiden and bitch–and together, as a whole, they ran.
Triangles
To those of the world who are fixed on following fate:
Built in the likeness of triangles—forced to trek upon rigid paths
Given only seven choices or means by which to follow:
Equiangular and equilateral folk are doomed to the same fate:
Each of them stuck to their predictable, never-ending, equally disappointing three-point cycle
Scalene individuals are destined to have constant unknowns and drama
Plagued by fear and uncertainty, they are careful in their ways
Obtuse people have the ability to view the world through a wide lens
They have an otherworldly ability to understand and comfort the world around them, harnessing the power of compassion
Acute beings are bound to remain limited in life
Introverts, creatures of habit, or self-absorbed jerks— never brave enough to explore; they tremble on the site of another person’s opinion
Right-angled people always have a solution to their problems
A proper, logical, and just answer to RIGHT the wrongs of life; they make decisions for the whole of mankind
Finally, isosceles society: the standard issue beings who try to do their very best, yet always seem to mess it up somehow
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Just a silly little piece I did for 5pts of extra credit for my geometry class, thought y'all would enjoy it :)
Canto I (the past)
I walk the grounds of earth alone in search
Of a wiser soul, more knowledgeable
Than thine. From the depths, the creature does lurch,
And it lets out an inconsolable
Cry. In that moment, I know who I see,
who lives in a world so inhospitable.
A stupid little girl begging to be
Set free into a world filled with horror.
Chained back, speaks, “I beg thee, please have mercy.”
Avoiding eye contact, I speed past her
Swiftly, desperately trying to bury.
The things I’ve seen, come to me by whisper,
Leave my memories as all but merry.
Done stumbling over my thoughts, I awake
At the edge of my own cemetery.
The fear creeps around my neck as a snake,
I don’t want to remember what I’ve done.
The pain of my past is too much to take.
The haunting of which I’m the only one
To survive. All the people who have failed
To endure the trials I have overcome.
All of the paths of my future: impaled;
All of our sins: seen and mutilated;
All of my mistakes are forlorn exhaled.
All those souls I pity were ill-fated,
The ones I loved turned to mist in my hands,
My hopes and dreams, before me, castrated.
I Won’t Bite
You must let your outermost self crumble away
You will cry out in fear, but offer me a bouquet
of foxglove, lobelia, wolfsbane
and asphodel. Next, in the rain
find my husk veiled in the unknown
and drip your blood over my stone.
If your blood sinks, you'd best run without aim.
Baby, beg me for mercy; praise me by name.
I pick you up delicately, careful not to claw your back as you bleed out from your neck.
You smile and look up with loving eyes; I drop you hard, and you make a beautiful noise.
Whether dead or alive, I have no desire to check.
Moonlit, you smile wildly and walk away with poise.
Only then, in your vulnerable, ruined defeat,
do you find the true nature of a being you once desperately desired to meet.
Divine Wrath
I can’t help it; I’ve never been able to. I'll yell at them, and I’ll throw things if the yelling doesn’t work. I know they’re purposefully ignoring me because they think pissing me off is hilarious.
At the library, the three of them talking, I was attempting my homework. At first, I asked them politely to stop talking, but that didn’t work; I slammed my computer shut and stormed off. I grabbed the heaviest book I could find. What I did next… I didn’t mean to. The rage I felt was unbridled, inhuman, and possibly my first taste of divinity.
Crazy 8.
I pick up another card, a four of spades - not what I needed - my hand grows with cards, flowering and falling. I dig into the stack of cards in front of me, now knowing the root of my problems is my hands being too small, 'till I find the right one. I reach into a bowl of dried fruit, nuts, and seeds. "Hurry up, hoe! God damn," my best friend yells at me from the other side of the table. Taking a sip of water, hardy, I continue, trying to keep my calm.
Chapter 2
As I look around, I see shadows. So. Many. Shadows. All I can see are shadows. The shadows are everywhere. I hear a growl in my right ear, except as I look over, there is nothing but shadows. I look to my left and glimpse two bright white glaring eyes.
“NO!” I shouted as loud as I could muster, “NOT AGAIN! PLEASE!” I rush out of my room, sprinting and stumbling through the castle's corridors. As I scream, “SOMEONE PLEASE, HELP,” a door opens, and I run toward it.
“What is going on out there?” they say, sticking their head out to peek at the long corridors. I shove past them and slam the door shut. “Please, you have to help me.” I beg, “Do you have any medical skills?”
“I do; why do you ask?” they reply with slight concern in their voice. I turn around and lift my ginger hair to show them the giant scratch marks on my back. “I’m in dire need of medical assistance. Is there any way you can help? I’m not sure how long I have.”
“Oh dear, I’ll see what I can do,” they say, “do they hurt at all?” They say, lightly brushing the skin around the scratches. I wince at their touch.
“I think adrenaline was saving me from most of the pain, but I think it’s wearing off now,” I reply.
“They look quite painful,” they respond sympathetically. “How did you get them?”
I am not sure if I should tell anyone about the “thing” yet, I think to myself. “I'm unsure how I got them,” I reply, hoping to be as deceptive as possible, and from what I can tell, they don’t seem to know I have just lied to them. “I woke up to a mixture of blood and mud on my bed and my entire body.”
“What is your name? I should probably know who I’m trusting and ensuring my safety to.” I know I am acting far too cautious, but I don’t care.
“Oh, my name is Sanao. Your voice sounds familiar. Might I happen to know you?” asked Sanao.
“It’s possible… and likely,” I reply.
“Well, what is your name then?” Sanao asks inquisitively. “I have told you mine; now it is your turn to share. What is it?”
Should I tell them my real name or an alias? I had never done good under pressure, and I began to panic. “My name is Emerald,” I blurt out.
Sanao bows down in respect, worry openly displayed along their candle-lit face, “My apologies, your majesty. I cannot see your face, and it’s challenging to distinguish the difference between people and… things in the dark.” The last part was only barely audible.
I'm sure my face had many questions written upon it, but “I prefer if you wouldn’t address me as ‘your majesty’ at this moment, please,” I say in desperation. “and honestly, I don’t really care what you call me right now; just help me.”