This is a journey on becoming what you hate, reflecting

how you got there, and how to get back from it, if you can.

Penance of the Byronic Hero

by Paula Macena

Genre

Narrative Poetry

Penance of the Byronic Hero is a narrative poetry collection that highlights emotional trauma in religious upbringings, specifically within marginalized communities, and how it reflects on personal relationships. Separated into four different acts, it recounts heavy topics in their rawest form, including mental illness and domestic violence, and the perspective of one who is toiling through these things and attempting to find a way out.

Penance of the Byronic Hero is full of heartache and beauty. Both the wonders and pains that come with the act of living. -Goodreads review

I was slightly skeptical of this book as I don’t tend to enjoy poetry collections. I find them to be disjointed, overelaborate, and somehow still flat and distant. Paula’s book was none of those things. The writing were clear reflections of a series of experiences and ideas. Acute relatability yet still unique expressions existed on every page. -Goodreads review

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But I’m Still Looking for Answers

You used to go to an old coffee shop downtown,

which I usually ignore,

but this time I went inside

to see what was so good about it—

There had to be a reason why

you loved it so.

I still remember your favorite drink.

Only because you’d come see me everyday

with a steaming hot cup of it in your hand,

saying it tasted like vanilla and chocolate

and every good thing.

Oh, you’d brag about it.

So that's what I order today when I go inside:

to see what was so good about it.

Because there had to be a reason why

you loved it so.

As it turns out,

the old coffee shop wasn't all that great.

It had yellow walls with peeling paint,

and tired people rubbing their eyes,

trying to chase the sleep away.

Sure, it smelled of vanilla,

but it also reeked of the man's cigarette

who always takes the booth in the corner

next to the biggest window.

And as I took a sip of your favorite drink,

I found that

it wasn't that great either.

You always saw things differently than me, and

I don't know why I'm only realizing that now.

There was no particular reason why

you loved this place

or this drink so.

And there was no particular reason why

you loved me

so.

Love Language

I'm tired of small talk.

Tell me: Do you believe in soulmates? How about God?

When was the first time you saw your mother cry?

When was the last time you told her you loved her? Do you love her?

Let’s go cliff jumping,

skydiving,

run through a minefield and see who dies first.

Make me feel something even if it’s fear.

Strap TNT to my ankles and tell me that I’m beautiful.

Tell me that I dress like your favorite song.

Tell me that my hair falls on my shoulders the same way your imaginary friend’s did,

that my lips are the shape you saw that one night

when you were staring at a ceiling you did not recognize.

Tell me that I am ordinary and then treat me like I am anything but.

Kiss me only if you promise to either forget my name in the morning

or get it tattooed on your thumb.

Tell me I’m crazy but say it like you mean it.

Say it with a smile.

Don’t tell me that you’re different,

just hold me as if you could be.

As if God (if you believe in one, I’m still waiting for your answer)

could reach down and suck the depression out of your hippocampus;

as if I could have the same mental stability or lack thereof as your dream girl.

Don’t tell me your favorite color,

just tell me that my voice sounds like it.

Guess my ring size so you can tie a thread around my finger,

so I’ll never forget the shape of your broken promises.

Don’t stay with me until the morning, be romantic about it.

Put some effort in, show me your creativity.

Tell me you’ll stay with me until you make up your own constellation in the sky.

Name it after me.

Don’t keep me from laying on the highway, lay with me.

Don’t stop me from jumping off the bridge, jump with me.

If you’re a bird I'm a bird, right?

Then baby, let’s fly.

I'm tired of small talk.

Tell me: Do you believe in soulmates? How about God?

Tell me, “I don’t know, I don’t know—but if I did,

I'd think that God looks something just like you.”

Paula Macena is, above all, a writer. Aside from being published in Jr High the Magazine, Culturally Arts Collective, and Prometheus Unbound, her most recent poetry collection, Penance of the Byronic Hero was released in June 2023. In her pursuit of shedding light on marginalized writers, she hosts local writers’ events throughout Southern California. When she isn’t writing, you can find her making too much coffee, watching The Vampire Diaries, and staring lovingly at her cats.

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