when you are young, you can talk to the world in a very different way. you've not yet forgotten your godliness. carrying the ichor in your eyes changes your perception. laws bend to your will and gravity can no longer tether you to reality. but this is only for a few.
the few are the chosen. it's hard to be chosen, but you know when you are. it feels like all the eyes of the world are drawn to you, and all the hands reach to touch you, and every voice yearns to bounce around in your head. it is when you feel control on the tips of your fingers. it is when you smile at yourself in the mirror, when you smile at others who you know are gods, too, and of course they smile back.
gods group together. they are bound by an unspeakable something. it's incredible to see. what the gods can do. teenage exploitation of the opportunities presented is a power beyond description. the gods roam the streets at night and wait for the sun in the morning, because the sun is a god, too. it reminds them of themselves. what do the gods love more than themselves?
people may hate them for their godliness. the others just don't understand their envy, unable to comprehend what separates them. the mundane will always resent the particular. you can smell it on them, the most human emotion driven by desire and want without ever being able to have it.
I am so endlessly envious. I watch the gods and rage builds in my blood.
because I am a god, too, but no one seems to know it. for some reason, the gods do not look at me with that exclusive recognition they reserve for other divine eyes. they look at me and they do not know me. sometimes I prefer it that way. I may think I am a god, but I know I cannot stand beside them. there is something in my way. a wall, a thought, a lifetime. I could join their ranks if I had any confidence, or credentials, but I remain outside of their circle, always looking in.
I have watched a god ascend before. I remember when she hadn't yet grown into herself, when she and I and another slept in the same room. the warmth of those days assured me of the constant warmth in myself, in the power I had when unafraid. but then she caught the attention of the gods. they saw her and she saw them. it was love at first sight. all of that power looking at each other.
that taught me about the divide between us and the divine.
"you're not your own universe yet," she told me. I could cry when she said that, the relief I felt knowing that it wasn't over. she sees my potential, she saw it, she knows, maybe, that I could make the climb. I will make the climb.
my friends see the godliness in me, probably. they all look at me like they're in love. but I'm learning even as I write. they see all of my flaws. the funny thing is, my godly flaws could be intriguing, my human faults could be intriguing. everyone finds something in me. something to love, something to hate. I'm full of somethings.
I live on top of the wall. on one side is the endless night where gods dance, and I watch them. I hear the thing in me roar as I watch them. it pulls in my stomach, desire, to join them among the stars. I see my friend, and am embarrassed by the intense want. so I hesitate. they can't know how bad I like them. on the other side, it's warm. it's noon in a neighborhood and kids lay in their beds or walk the streets or watch the clouds. how beautifully safe the mortals live.
adrenaline could be the ichor I taste. I feel most godly when I'm a little afraid, muscles tense, eyes widened to eat up every single bit of the moment in front of me. when I hear the strings of fate playing. those nights when I chase the high, chase the sunrise, and savor the burnout the morning after.
then the morning after, I microwave a bowl of ramen for breakfast. I listen to the silence, of a friend's breathing, trying to convince myself of the night before when I was one of them.
