The Maenads
You created a cult of us,
disturbed little girls,
ripened grapes for your wine.
You picked us like fruit,
receiving our bruises,
exchanging worship at your shrine.
You called us away from our homes,
outcasted us in the wilderness,
dressed and undressed us in skins of majestic felines.
You entranced us like a hypnotic flame,
alluring though savage,
with soothing words obscuring intentions so malign.
You taught us your wild rituals
up on the mountainside,
tangled us into your sadistic web of vicious vines.
You possessed us like a spirit
through drunken lips
to naked bodies covered in apple moonshine.
You licked up the scent of our fervent fear,
intoxicating invocations
dancing dementedly to your Bacchic melody divine.
Sarah Blakely
About the Creator
Sarah Blakely
This poem is from Sarah Blakely’s poetry collection on trauma, titled Volcano Girl. Sarah Blakely is a poet and songwriter based on the central coast of California. She writes primarily about her own experiences with sexual trauma and relationships as well as struggles with mental health and healing from trauma.
Follow her work on Instagram at @sarahb.poetry