Of love, I am the best and of love, I am the very worst –

Of love, I am the best and of love, I am the very worst –

Posted April 15th, 2017 by Lena

by Lena
in the stars

A/N: I am genuinely unsure of where my truth meets my metaphors in this poem. writing it was almost surreal.


Of love, I am the best and of love, I am the very worst –


I. on the eve of my fourteenth birthday,
I sold my soul to Venus.
beneath the january blue,
I offered her a rose,
holding trembling petals to the sky, 
and praying to speak with her.
with heartbreak and terror fresh against my ribs,
I begged for her to reshape me,
to make clay of me in her fateful hands.
the skies opened up and
bled snow onto the scene:
a dainty girl
with a dainty rose.

Venus came to me, then.
she smiled at the sight of me
shivering and silver and
full of january blue.
wordlessly, she took the rose from my fingers
and pricked her thumb.
wordlessly, she dotted the blood across the highest point of my cheeks,
turning blues into blush.
wordlessly, she reached into my chest.

I sold my soul to Venus,
and too many have paid the price.


II. among her first gifts to me were
red lipstick and the gentlest of boys.
sir soft,
sir sweet,
sir your hands are near fluttering on my waist,
it’s okay to touch me,
to grab me,
I swear.
we danced and his fingertips buzzed
all the way through my dress.
she tells me I should have kissed him.
part of me regrets not doing so.
(sir sweet, sir soft,
sir gentle, sir gone.)
the rest of me, in reflection, knows I might’ve shattered him if I had.


III. when I asked her how she does it,
she told me simply that I must love
and honestly.
she told me that the rest would fall into place.
so I loved.
I ran up to the boy on my bus whose
heart was too weak to keep itself awake
and I loved him
until he loved me back
in ways I was unequipped to handle.
that night, Venus held me as I cried for him,
and warned me
that he would not be the last casualty.


IV. he wasn’t.
in the months following,
I took down armies.
and the souls around me ached for it,
and selfishly, I ached for it, too.

when I asked Venus why she had made me such a hurricane,
the air around us froze.
with pink lightning as her tongue,
she snapped,
“is this not what you wanted?
was this not the deal, miss morality?”


V. Venus does not take punishment lightly.
she sent me demons
to take my love and toss it out.
she sent me demons
to take my body and make it theirs.
she sent me demons
to show me that only her blessing could keep me safe.

she tore up the life inside my chest
but was careful to
leave the love intact.

and worst of all
(best of all)
she sent me la mia anima gemella
and I cannot touch him.
I cannot kiss him.
I cannot keep him,
which he reminds me every so often.

all the souls that we
have touched, whether accidentally
or with tragic, selfish intention,
are paying full price
for someone who cannot love them.

and every inch of me hurts for him and hurts for them
in places undefinable and
worlds indescribable.

Venus sent him to me
knowing that he was unprepared to love me,
knowing that we both had years to grow,
knowing that I would give my everything, the way she taught me to,
and knowing that every boy I love in the meantime
can feel the weight of it as well.

I believe it was her cruelest trick.


VI. january has passed three rounds
since I offered her that rose,
and all the love,
the good,
the heart
in me
is begging for it back
before she tears my world apart
in the name of love and Lena.


See more stories by Lena
This is so muddled but so

This is so muddled but so beautiful at the same time like?? You're great at metaphors already you mysterious poem weaver and this is amazing.


Spero quod via tua est directa et quod tuum onus est levis.

Posted by *Snow* on Sun, 04/16/2017 - 16:27
thank you so much

thank you so much omg

we are words that reject the likes of synonyms.

Posted by Lena on Mon, 04/17/2017 - 17:56
im in love with every single

im in love with every single word of this

this is so well written im floored 

little grammar error:

and warned me
that he would not me the last casualty.

should be "be" i think.

i love this tho thank you for sharing

Posted by Elliot on Mon, 04/17/2017 - 16:50
oh heck thank you for

oh heck thank you for catching that! i'm really glad you liked it that means a lot coming from you

we are words that reject the likes of synonyms.

Posted by Lena on Mon, 04/17/2017 - 17:57
wow i love you

wow i love you

Posted by ellie on Wed, 04/19/2017 - 19:05
This was amazing! I like the

This was amazing! I like the feeling of mystery you've added to this poem :)


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