maelinoe:

Dearest Mother,

Oh Mother, have you forgotten me?

Do not let the smell of myrrh deceive you, because I have love dripping from my fingers. Dearest Mother, I am not the cursed maiden who devoured six seeds, I may have been a youth, but I am your daughter. You birthed the fierceness of summer, the beauty of a rose, and the cunning of a fox.

Mother, mother, do not weep for me! Oh mother do you not understand? Do you not see?

Perhaps they told our story wrong, lover. Let our laughs reach the ears of Gods and mortals both,

Do they not know that spring is wilderness? Oh lover, only you know these hands can start forest fires and birth fawns, my dark one, only you have seen the shadow in my smile.

Mother those stories are Blasphemy! How dare they reduce my flight to abduction! They do not know that I took the plunge for I could not stand to see to be the shadow of your beauty, Mother; I was no one when you trailed blushes with your bare feet. Mother, I could not fall for the deceit of the light.

Apollo and Hermes were mere boys who blinded women with the hypocrisy, whose tempers raged higher than Olympus. And I detest men who look at me like a conquest.

But him, Mother, he treats me well. After all, when does Death ever make bargains?

Do you really believe that I was more tempted by blood seeds? Mother, how naïve of you. Goddess of Harvest, you create fruits juicier that pomegranates. Oh, it was not a trickster’s greed but his callow smile and hesitant confessions that lured me in. I saw beauty in the dark, just the way you taught me to. I saw the sun in his eyes where the Mortals saw fear and hallow ashes where the Gods saw a monster. 

Let me tell you, hear me as I say,

the God of the Underworld did not abduct me.

You call me condemned but I have Hell on their knees.

It was his heart I feasted on with a grin,

It was his hands that showed me what real fertility is.

He rules with magnanimity and I with ferocious freedom.

I was his iron fist and he was my warm midnight.

Mother, cease your weeping! Do not send me flowers, for your daughter is not dead. No Mother, I killed him, I took his heart for my own when he dared to own me. I burned him down with my fairy tale giggle,

I stole his throne and he called me his Savior.

Do not invalidate me because my name means maiden.

Trust me, Mother; Hades hath no control over me.

 ********

Persephone’s letter to Demeter // Camillea

I just wanted to thank mythaelogy, aestreae and patrocluz for the information that their blogs provided me with, and also for their positive feedback! This one is dedicated to you! You guys are amazing ❤ If you love mythology and want to know more, do go check out their blogs!