"I am Aphrodite.
When I cry, you will taste the nectar of my love.
When I laugh, the world stills at my voice.
When I fuck, your lives will be destroyed."
Where pain is pleasure, ugliness is beauty, and passion is a curse.
A goddess is slain by h...
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p o w e r f u l , like the stride of a woman with her mission on the line
"MOMMY! Look at how high I can go!" I squealed in excitement, welcoming the wind as it hit my face. She laughed joyously as she continued to watch me like a hawk from our old porch. Mommy was sewing from where she stood, skilled hands etching fabric.
"Honey, be careful on that swing. It's getting rusty, you know how worried your father and I both get." She glanced at the open field in front of our home — in nostalgia. I wanted to correct her, she's not my real mom. I already knew — why does she keep telling me that she was?
My mood was immediately dampened at the thought, my high pumps of momentum turning to dragging skids on the eroded dirt under were I swung. I tried to smile at my mother, but just the thought were I came from had my eyes stinging. I sucked it up, knowing that it's going to be this way forever.
"Mom can we go inside? It's getting cold." I pretended to shiver. When she nodded, I hopped off the swing, my pigtails lightly swinging as I pulled my slightly eroded hoodie around my small frame. She held her hand out for me to take, which I did, welcoming its soft texture. "When will daddy be home?" I asked. I hadn't seen him in a week, mommy said he was coming home tonight or early in the morning.
"He called while you were swinging. He has to stay overnight for some hours, but I promise you'll see before you go to school." She gave me a smile, squeezing my baby hand gently. I nodded, skipping into the dining room. I skimmed through my books, deciding to read to mommy as she cooked.
"Can I read to you mommy? I'll show you how much better I've gotten." Her dimples showed as she gave me a warm, encouraging smile.
"Go ahead, little one." So I did. I tried so hard for my mommy.
I wanted to make her proud of me, but I knew that she was as proud as she could be for a child that wasn't hers. I stopped reading when she answered a phone call.
"Hello." She answered aggressively. Her whisk dug into the gravy on the stove. I didn't hear the rest of the conversation, myself to engrossed in the door, eyebrows furrowed.
I could sense something was about to happen.
Suddenly the door slammed open. I jumped, as did mommy, as a man I hadn't seen before came in on the house. He had an untrimmed beard and long hair that had peeks of gray.
"Surprise!" He yelled out, silencing mommy with a single stare. The door creaked as it swung slightly out of place. He'd probably broken it.
"Baby, come here now." I could sense mommy's uneasiness as I walked around the table away from the man. His face looked crazed and loving, a bad combination. Once his eyes drifted to me, I became scared. I tugged on mommy's dress and hid behind her.
