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Poems by o-ohhai

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Submitted on
August 4, 2011
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7 (who?)
There is stone in the bones of my spine
that aches like earth-old strength,
I know well (oh, too well)-
and now I know that when I lay
face-down-in-the-dirt I become
an unholy altar for sacrifices kept secret.
(Whip me senseless,
flay the skin-and-muscle
from my stone-bones to
reveal this truth:
inside I am a
hollow stone tower
built to honour things ancient and forgotten.)

There is a dragon trapped and writhing
in the cage of my ribs
and she breathes endless
fire into my lungs;
she fights endless battles
over my heart;
she tears through what
might have been an
otherwise-functioning thoracic cavity
and lays her eggs against
my diaphragm.
There is a dragon trapped in the cage of my ribs,
and she wants warbloodsexrevengeisbestservedhot.

There is a glacier in my mind;
it came upon me so very slowly that
I cannot say when or where it came from,
or if it has been here all along.
It keeps my ribcage-dragon angry and trapped,
it keeps my thoughts cold and my intentions
Hidden behind flesh and blood and bone and
grey matter is a simple and disturbing truth:
endless ice cares not for your existence or
your affection, dearheart,
and neither do I.

There is a glass lake hidden deep
in the twisted folds of my intestines,
and it is companion to the glacier in my mind;
only it is a graveyard of things I have
had to bury alive, or lose myself.
There is not a moment in passing
during which I am not aware of its cold surface:
an unforgiving, diamond-hard glacier-cold
knot in the core of my being
where only dark and silence and solace
should be.
I am afraid that I have
destroyed my future
as I bury my past.

There is red ink in my veins
that is the stuff of dreams
both dark and beautiful.
I am at my most alive and most
when I lose myself to
red-stained agonyecstacy.

There is a stranger where my mouth should be,
and she talkstalkstalks too much, too much-
she spills secrets where they should not be,
flirts with fate and death and love and hate
and leaves me with the aftershocks of
pain and betrayal.
I would like it if she would kindly
(slowly, painfully, for the things she has
done to me)
or take over completely.

There is a library in my eyes,
which is the simplest and most
complicated reason for why I
never look back
when you try to catch my gaze.

These are the things that tragedies and contradictions are made of,
and these are the things that both create who I am and destroy who
I could be,
back and forth and back and forth again.

There is a dragon in my ribcage and a glacier in my mind,
which makes my throat a warzone,
I suppose.
Would that I really were a dragon.
Or a glacier.
Or a different girl entirely.
Or buried deep within my glass lake.

Would that I were not strong enough to withstand anything thrown at me.
Perhaps if I broke,
I could find a better way
scattered in ashes.
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JuliusScipio Featured By Owner Aug 23, 2011  Student Writer
Someone once told me that
It's the things we return to not the ones we love at first,
Which we understand that romance us
In a kind of ourtship, a beau who's not flashy
But persistent and we love him for it.
So I returned to the beginning
And found it was

A good poem, madame. :) I enjoyed the dichotomy 'twixt heat and cold as a guiding image here. ^^
suspendbelief Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Thankee verra much~. -flourishbow- Ah? That was a little bit of an accident. Or, at least, I wasn't thinking of it in that way as I wrote it. ^^ ;;

I like your little snippet; it is very accurate.
JuliusScipio Featured By Owner Aug 28, 2011  Student Writer
That doesn't surprise me! My dad once remarked, and I think he was being more true than he could imagine at the time, that when poets and authors use symbols and metaphors, they often times resort to them almost nturally, like a child choosing to use a yellow crayon for the sun. You knew that's what was needed so you used it. :)
maidenofwar Featured By Owner Aug 8, 2011
There is red ink in my veins
that is the stuff of dreams
both dark and beautiful.
I am at my most alive and most
when I lose myself to
red-stained agonyecstacy.

those lines there simply stunned me... i felt my breath caught in my throat; it's painstakingly beautiful. just, wow, to all of this <3
suspendbelief Featured By Owner Aug 9, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
-flourishbow- Thank you very much. -crookedsmile- Ironically enough, that verse is the one I was most uncertain about when writing it. I wasn't sure if it fit in with the rest of them, or with the theme, or anything.
So I'm very glad to hear that it struck you the hardest. :heart:
o-ohhai Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2011
I love anatomy and I love you. I've been gone a lot (obviously) and I don't know what I'll be permanently back any time soon, but I thought I might tell you that you're lovely and so is your pretty, broken writing. It's always the best of what I have in my overflowing inbox and I always save it for last, because I like to treat myself to something pretty.

Not that I'm heaping praise on you or anything.

I hope you're doing well, but by the tenor of your last few pieces, maybe it's kind of a vain hope. But I can still do that. Hope, I mean.


Actually, more like <3333333333 (but more 3 on the end)
suspendbelief Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
-crookedsmile- Hey, that's two things we have in common. -dryly- If you keep the pronouns the same, 'nyways. I love you too. xD
Take your times in and out as you need them, girlie, no pressure from this end. (Though I do love it when you rear your sleepy-maned head. xD)
Thank you verra much. -flourishbow- I do try my best to make the ugliest bits of me more approachable, some for you and mostly for me. You know. -quirkygrin- Gives me the warm-fuzzies to be your favourite-saved-for-last. -preen- Not that you're swelling my ego something terrible or anything.

I'm actually doing fairly well, considering. I keep vacillating (which is an excellent word, by the by) between ups and downs, but I suppose that's to be expected of someone standing where I am in life.
And yes. You can always, always hope. And I can always try to do the best I can to fulfill those hopes. +^^+


pre-heresyKharn Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2011  Professional Artisan Crafter
:rose: you and your hurts-to-read poetry [bearhug]
suspendbelief Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2011  Hobbyist Writer
Well, better hurts-to-read poetry than hurts-to-think carousels. (Goes 'round and 'round and never anywhere else- get it?)

But yes. Actually. I rather love this piece. <3
pre-heresyKharn Featured By Owner Aug 4, 2011  Professional Artisan Crafter
speaking of going around and around and around - [link]

it's one of your better ones :huggle:
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