Ink I Bleed

first

O, sister yours, sister of love, o dear Artemis with her skin of the moon. O, dear Apollo, you watch her from behind, smiling, teasing, chasing.

Sister love, sister mine.

She is silent, she is night, she is an assassin—you are music, you are daytime, you are a brutish warrior. You are one side of a coin whereas she is the contradicting other. You are the sun wishing for a taste of the moon's light that she gives.

Sister love, sister mine, end this dance and take my hand.

You laugh, you run, you hide the pain and longing for her skin with a cruel maniacal smile, with crude jokes and taunts. She simply glances over her shoulder, her ebony hair sweeping over milky-white skin that you can never touch, and glides gracefully away, continuing the infernal pursuit.

Sister love, sister mine, end this dance and take my hand. Let my lips caress yours.

Ride your chariots as you may, crack the whip in your palm on your stallions' back with all your might, you are still never enough to graze her locks with sun-kissed fingertips. She never reaches for your fair curls, for your aureate crown of hair that fall into azure eyes. O, gods and goddess of the divine, the cruelty of it all was shattering.

Sister love, sister mine, end this dance and take my hand. Let my lips caress yours. Let the world bow to my love's light.

Her eyes, the deepest and darkest of blues, a shade of midnight, so perfect, twinkling with the stars of the dark. A glimpse sent daggers into your chest, sent an ice-cold sweat slithering down the sun's spine, sent pangs of that painful desire that dragged hate into your heart for the world. A game, this is all it was to them. You, searching for her, and her, hiding from you.

Sister love, sister mine, end this dance and take my hand. Let my lips caress yours. Let the world bow to my love's light. Let them all fall underneath the weight of the pain I have endured for I yearned for you all these years.

You dream of how her lips would taste, how her skin would, how she would feel upon you. Finer than the aged wine on your tongue, the crushed velvet between your palms, the fresh nectar of a god's ichor. It is cruel. This curse the gods have bestowed upon you. A blessing, a gift, they've named it. But love... Love is the cruelest of all forsaken gifts to give one.

Sister love, sister mine, end this dance and take my hand. Let my lips caress yours. Let the world bow to my love's light. Let them all fall underneath the weight of the pain I have endured as I yearn for you all these years. Let us bring reckoning upon them, let us escape and crumble away with the world. Chain me up, spill and drink my blood, shatter every bone in my body, pierce my heart with your keen arrows, slice away every inch of me with your silent assassin's knives but let me see you once. Let me touch you once before you reap me. Sister love, sister mine, I beg of you, end this dance and take my hand.

Pray on as you may, dear Apollo. Your sister, your love, the dear goddess Artemis, can hear you.

Yet she will not listen.