…who wanted something to relieve her pain.
Left, tricked, betrayed, I call to Love and Hell
Sweet Venus in a rage, Hecate who waits
to help when all is lost, I seek your help.
The boy is gone to whom I gave my heart.
The boy I made a man has turned his face.
May he drip pus from every stinging boil!
I’ve gathered herbs and set them on a boil.
Clashed little cymbals that were forged in Hell
I look in mirrors at my anguished face
Streaked with the tears of one who sits and waits
for him. He never calls; he broke my heart
Goddesses, Furies, I invoke your help.
I will survive him, smash him, with your help.
Though love and pain and hatred simmer boil
through all four chambers of my aching heart
like pitch as black as that which flows in Hell
pull me apart as if I’m chained to weights
spinning in all directions. Every face
I see looks like him. Scorn in every face
That turns away from me. Refusing help.
Revenge is better. If one only waits
It comes. I want it now. Let anger boil
invoking love turned bitter, greedy Hell
The cauldron of my spells seethes like my heart
Take from him all his beauty, break his heart
He fucked her, let her nails scratch at his face
until his cheeks burn like the fires of Hell1
He’ll seek out ointments that will never help
Each scratch will suppurate, turn to a boil
but that’s not all. For my worst vengeance waits.
Let me find happiness, with one who waits
for me to find them. Let them cure my heart
and may he watch with envy.Let him boil
in impotent resenment. Let his face
Be marred, and let his heart know there’s no help
and may his lonely life become a Hell.
Love comes to her who waits. I’ll wipe my face
vengeance will cure my heart first. That will help.
The cauldron boils. My spells take him to Hell.