Cut, and carved.
Thrown, and broken.
First, an amphora,
that they could pour out, of.
Then, a two-handed cup,
that they could pour, into.
If I couldn't be,
sufficiently hollowed...
I could be rewetted,
and molded, again.
Thrown, into the wall,
and shattered.
Scraps, recovered
and shaped, again,
freshly
with my own blood,
for water.
They couldn't cry, for me.
...I was only clay.
The hands,
that shaped me...
found my curves,
to their liking,
first.
Pigs.
Pygmalions.
They caught me, by the throat
while I was still, raw, and malleable.
...Her eyebrows, raise.
When slapped, and pinched
into a submissive position?
What did, I...what did I do?
How did I respond?
Cut, and carved.
Thrown, and broken.
First, an amphora,
that they could pour out, of.
Then, a two-handed cup,
that they could pour, into.
If I couldn't be,
sufficiently hollowed...
...I could be rewetted,
and molded, again.
May 17
May 17, 2026 at 2:01 AM UTC
Cut, and carved.
Thrown, and broken.
First, an amphora,
that they could pour out, of.
Then, a two-handed cup,
that they could pour, into.
If I couldn't be,
sufficiently hollowed...
I could be rewetted,
and molded, again.
Thrown, into the wall,
and shattered.
Scraps, recovered
and shaped, again,
freshly
with my own blood,
for water.
They couldn't cry, for me.
...I was only clay.
The hands,
that shaped me...
found my curves,
to their liking,
first.
Pigs.
Pygmalions.
They caught me, by the throat
while I was still, raw, and malleable.
...Her eyebrows, raise.
When slapped, and pinched
into a submissive position?
What did, I...what did I do?
How did I respond?
Cut, and carved.
Thrown, and broken.
First, an amphora,
that they could pour out, of.
Then, a two-handed cup,
that they could pour, into.
If I couldn't be,
sufficiently hollowed...
...I could be rewetted,
and molded, again.
Continuing with the trend of analyzing my own formative experiences and past traumas through the lens of mythology, for the sake of therapy.
Galatea was molded after the goddess of love, by a lonely yet gifted sculptor. Pygmalion's devotion and adoration towards Aphrodite's graven image touched her so much, that she answered his prayers, and made her real. My interpretation, is...darker.
Request permission to use this poem