Dear Apollo,
My mind may be broken
But I don’t feel anything
I no longer despair for you.
I no longer despair.
Sun-God,
You gorge yourself on wine,
You live under a violet cloud.
You summon your storms,
To soak yourself in self-pity.
You defend your children:
Your dearest Grudge,
Darling Anger,
And your loyal pet, Hate.
The four of you, drowning.
Dear Apollo,
You witnessed my abduction.
I forgave you for your apathy.
You cast blame, as Zeus does lightning,
You hide away in the clouds.
Your Celebrations turn vile.
Your disciples abandon hope.
They call for you,
As the wind howls and thunder roars.
You turn your back, withhold your rays.
For holding on to your vices,
I cannot forgive you.
But I cannot forget you spoke the truth.
Saving me, so I still think of you.
And hope that one day you will shine again.
Bio:
Nikki Bausch is from St. Louis, Missouri but has been pursuing a masters in Vienna, Austria. Her work has appeared in UM--St. Louis's Litmag, The Honest Ulsterman, Perhappened, and elsewhere. Her work is forthcoming in Anti-Heroin Chic. She is also a visual artist, and writes in German.