deathless child of Zeus,
wile-weaver, I now implore you:
don’t, I beg you, with pains and torments, crush down my spirit.
I sit by a pond. It’s small, and the lily-pads are dying. Wasps pollinate goldenrods. I breathe, ground, and speak to her through my mind.
“My Lady, I’m scared. I’m lonely. Those who called themselves my friends left me. I’m angry. I don’t know how to handle this.”
“You know you have me by your side? And your girlfriend, and your remaining friends. You’re not alone.”
“I can barely make myself get out. I’m scared. I’ve lost the ability to make friends.”
“You’re a cornered animal. You growl and spit with false courage. Know that this anger is not true courage. You have love in your heart. You have your morals by your side. You don’t need this anger anymore. Your courage comes from your peace. Your laugh. Your kindness. It’s hard to be kind, I know this. But to be who you need to be, you must venture out, and find true courage.”
I breathe. I watch bees fly on goldenrods. Bugs skitter across the water.
Come to me once more, and abade my tourment
Take bitter care from my mind
and give me all I long for
Lady, in all my battles,
fight as my comrade