ASTRID BRIDGWOOD -

MEGARA’S ODE

I am home again call it duty call it war heavy  

hungry salivating throne waiting golden-glory deserved 

I promised come home pray kneel before altar blackened

What are men made to do but love? This is love I call it 

love stricken dark eyes red wide pulsing I know love I know  

the gods called it love whispered before me  

flickering images altar-torches I promised you  

here I am home again battle aching shoulders  

truth in my ear goddess spake red smoke like vines like hope 

I knew my wife would be faithful my beautiful 

children my love kneeling her body earth-damp I am the altar 

Christened with venom and godhead favorite hated Hera

begging for innocence it’s me darling know me this is love 

is love my club this club is my love my lion-skin future 

strike me father please clarity mind clouds first trial 

I will not be found unworthy. Promised me glory 

me made weak by oath made small body grew caged killed 

snakes with my hands childhood poisoned father skyward 

storm-abandoned I promised return to the hearth you keep 

they love me for it I am dutiful. She made me worthy 

Cursed me her tongue heavy with ichor me bastard son 

Sweet wife: I will love you with your blood on my hands. 

I am indebted fire-trialled palace-dizzy eyes rolling 

buzzing prophecy body forged envy woman scorned 

She hated me hated her husband resents me as she loves him 

I kill for her like every son for the mother he deserves 

Does a goddess regret? I see it my writhing foaming 

Bloodlust she makes me great makes me hero makes me 

Saved my name Herakles built me muscle bones skin

veins draped over arms shaking with effort your body shaking 

before me begging where is my throne? Usurper!

Call me killer call me forsaken miasma rolling from me 

panting wet breath blackness love duty penance 

Father named me golden named me wife forgotten 

ecstasy’s final moment before release mortal womb son 

doomed by godhood punished I wake. Fingernails black 

scummy mouth red teeth aching sated at last my halls my love!

Ruby empty. 

Astrid Bridgwood is an eighteen year old poet from North Carolina with a love for printmaking and playing guitar. Astrid's work tends to focus on her girlhood struggles with love, mental health, and body image. You can find her featured in Peregrine Mag, Ember Chasm Review, and upcoming in Storm of Blue Press.

Follow her on Twitter @astridsbridg