mother, you ask why i left,
when i had a beautiful, mortal realm,
all to myself.
you ask why i hide under the ground,
in shadows with darkness,
embracing my body.
you ask why i left
and ran to the Gods you ran from.
mother, you never looked deeper
past my flowers
past my shades of pink
past my pretty, wild, and messy springs,
so you never understood.
i am not a naive girl, mother.
he saw the darkness in me,
which you could never see.
he saw the terrors of rage,
and sobbing ghosts that take
over my body when i fall asleep.
you saw the light in me, mother.
and so did he.
but he didn't view my light as a matter
of innocence, and the undying need to protect it.
he saw the light as a part of my core,
and knew the darkness would balance it.
he loved both parts.
while you only knew one.
you ask who i am,
and who i have become,
although i live with the shadows in the dark,
i no longer am one,
dancing and living a lie
with the mortals and nymphs,
praying for a chance to escape this.
mother, i am no longer kore;
i am persephone.
