SPN poem - The year of goodbyes
The year of goodbyes
We came from a village where we were all torches.
I carried you from one house to another,
the heat of you crackling in my hand.
Everyone told me to be afraid. I told you I wasn't.
I touched you anyway.
This winter is the hardest winter I’ve known.
My gloves are too cold to warm my hands,
your fire long gone from the herringbone shroud.
You are a long way away. I hope you are remembering me.
I will be here when you remember me.
They gave me this lighter. They gave me a mission,
a good engine, mountains in my brain.
They gave me your needle eyes, your long fingers.
They gave us time and the courage to defy them,
taste for meat, lungs for smoke, love of rain.
You were buried in mud. I tried to unearth you.
The voice I heard was very quiet. I thought,
you can't think I am equal to this. I thought,
there must be a reason for me to lose you.
A good reason. Then I gave up on goodness.
There were no maps for my desperation.
I held a mirror to my youth, cut off
the last years of my life. Relied on blind turns.
I made us a language of what we’ve already said
but the world has changed. We have no good words.
Unable to take us back or let you down gently,
I am putting my hands into your fire. It’s not
that I want to die; I want to prove we’ve lived,
to tear up unanswered questions, to be intractable,
except under your hands, at the end of the line
where you touch me despite everything.
This time I say the right things
to your warm body, my hands scorched
by your breathing. Everyone tells me to be afraid.
I tell you I’m not. I touch you anyway.
--
This is a wincest poem :) I posted this on redredwords but forgot to post it to my main journal. Woops.
I started this more than years ago as a SPN poem, and it still is, and I still want to make graphics and put this text on them, but I figured it took me so long to write this poem I might as well post it in its entirety first to say it's done because I won't work on it anymore XD And I have already done two stanza graphics tonight, but there are still 5 more! Who even knows if this would see the light of day, then! I am not that great at graphics, friends! I have a dream of making gifs but oh god my gifs always look terrible.
many thanks to
animus_wyrmis for looking this over ohhh sayyyy about a year ago! and her invaluable feedback and encouragement! :D even for my incest poetry!
I will post the graphics when I finish them :) I am determined to, despite my greatly deteriorated visual recall.
This entry was originally posted at http://zempasuchil.dreamwidth.org/286168.html.
We came from a village where we were all torches.
I carried you from one house to another,
the heat of you crackling in my hand.
Everyone told me to be afraid. I told you I wasn't.
I touched you anyway.
This winter is the hardest winter I’ve known.
My gloves are too cold to warm my hands,
your fire long gone from the herringbone shroud.
You are a long way away. I hope you are remembering me.
I will be here when you remember me.
They gave me this lighter. They gave me a mission,
a good engine, mountains in my brain.
They gave me your needle eyes, your long fingers.
They gave us time and the courage to defy them,
taste for meat, lungs for smoke, love of rain.
You were buried in mud. I tried to unearth you.
The voice I heard was very quiet. I thought,
you can't think I am equal to this. I thought,
there must be a reason for me to lose you.
A good reason. Then I gave up on goodness.
There were no maps for my desperation.
I held a mirror to my youth, cut off
the last years of my life. Relied on blind turns.
I made us a language of what we’ve already said
but the world has changed. We have no good words.
Unable to take us back or let you down gently,
I am putting my hands into your fire. It’s not
that I want to die; I want to prove we’ve lived,
to tear up unanswered questions, to be intractable,
except under your hands, at the end of the line
where you touch me despite everything.
This time I say the right things
to your warm body, my hands scorched
by your breathing. Everyone tells me to be afraid.
I tell you I’m not. I touch you anyway.
--
This is a wincest poem :) I posted this on redredwords but forgot to post it to my main journal. Woops.
I started this more than years ago as a SPN poem, and it still is, and I still want to make graphics and put this text on them, but I figured it took me so long to write this poem I might as well post it in its entirety first to say it's done because I won't work on it anymore XD And I have already done two stanza graphics tonight, but there are still 5 more! Who even knows if this would see the light of day, then! I am not that great at graphics, friends! I have a dream of making gifs but oh god my gifs always look terrible.
many thanks to
animus_wyrmis for looking this over ohhh sayyyy about a year ago! and her invaluable feedback and encouragement! :D even for my incest poetry!
I will post the graphics when I finish them :) I am determined to, despite my greatly deteriorated visual recall.
This entry was originally posted at http://zempasuchil.dreamwidth.org/286168.html.