Page 12 of Styx

helped her through

the difficult task

of birthing new life.

It was a messy act,

bringing children

into this world.

All that ichor,

the golden Gods’ blood,

that was spilled,

my mother’s screams

as the tiny bodies

of my crying brothers arrived.

I shuddered as I lifted

one of them up.

He gazed up at me

with clear green irises.

He looked more

like my parents

than I ever had.

After That My Mother Was Always Pregnant

Gone were the days

where she brushed my hair

and sung me lullabies.

Gone were the moments

where she joined me for walks

on the golden sands at sunset.

I saw so little of her now.

She spent most of her time

with my aunts, talking about children,

while my brothers grew craggy