Where are you? I heard stories that you departed... What did you do? There's no way you got outsmarted Did you forget I am awaiting your arrival? Did you not think our house will be full of rivals? Did you forget you have a son? Why didn't you come when the war was done?
Other wives have their husbands home Yet you are leaving me on Ithaca alone Come back, my love, return to your throne Come back before my heart turns to stone
Ten years ago you were stolen by a war Ten years ago you stepped outside our door Yet I have been patiently waiting By fears and nightmares I was waking And I have cried my eyes out more than I can count This loneliness I feel is not something I can surmount
Come back to our bed, to our tree Come back to me! Please! I beg the gods above Don't delay my beacon Don't hinder love
The sun is dawning Another day without news Tomorrow's morning My watch continues
I'll be once again looking out my window Not knowing if I am a wife or a widow You never should have left! Your forced departure was worse than a theft Athena, guide home your favourite Or don't you love him no more for his shrewdness and bravery? Oh gods... We mortals are but pieces in your lust for glorious wars
Labor pain I write this through a haze Going in and out remembering grey days
I woke up from a dream Where I had to fend from three They didn’t even know me I was only 13
Labor pain I’ve moved past the blame But how can make sure You’re Journey doesn’t go the same?
I wanna protect you from the world But the world taught me It is what you make it When I was only 15
Labor pain This is my labor pain I’ve cut the chord So you won’t have to feel my shame
Labor pain This is my own labor pain It’s not yours I’m doing the best I can To make sure your playground is free rein
Wrote this at the beginning of my labor Growing up, becoming a mother, i don’t want to pass On my trauma to my child. We do the best we can, Sometimes we become the product of our environment, and sometimes we used that as an excuse
When Penelope bid αντίο her dearest Odysseus Did she shed a tear for her heart left alone Or sit alone in the room where she would await his return And knit quietly The bemused bride of a nation grieving, Groaning from the pains of war?