We get a week off from school to relax and enjoy life as we are not able to do when constantly loaded with tons of homework and other assignments. And what do I do? I get sick. Just perfect…
Well at least I don’t need to worry about missing classes or attending them while trying not to die. Always a plus.
Anyhow, during the week I had plenty of little bits and pieces gathered, so that today I sat down and wrote a poem. Yey! (Not sure if a rather awkward yey or a genuinely happy yey, but yey anyway…)
Here it is;
Standing quiet here on this empty hill,
abandoned alone on the mountain side;
I cradle memories of a broken thrill,
too far to reach – kept safe in mind.
To ease the tension I try crying, screaming –
top of my lungs: I don’t need you! –
but it doesn’t work, it’s not that easy;
my echo feels the same way as I do.
Time moves slow; every second is a year,
yet hurriedly – too fast – it rushes by.
Past your tired eyes, and then just disappear,
like they say when you’re about to die.
A sight as beautiful as ever in my eyes –
days on end I could stare right through;
yet my head is filled with hope (with all these lies),
and has got me thinking about jumping right into.
So sweet and slow; an urge to drown me in this river;
too blind to see that I’m already there.
Swimming, fighting; sinking deeper and deeper –
never reaching sandy bottom, never surface and the air.
I turn away, and face the burning sun.
Let its rays caress my smiling, tear-soaked face.
It makes you cheery staring down a loaded gun;
a happiness that can cause your heart to break.
The poem may seem quite complicated. And perhaps a lot less harsh than it actually is. The idea might be woven so deep somewhere in there that it’s possible no one else but me will be able to see it in there. It happens.
But to clear things out… No, it has nothing to do with the post I wrote yesterday, about loneliness. No, it is not a poem about someone wanting to off themself (although it may very well be read as one). The idea is that the narrator is not happy about their love for another person, but is kind of giving in to it, even though it is the last thing they would want to do. Or, the one the narrator has feelings for is not happy about this, or at least it seems so to the narrator, but the narrator is kind of getting tired of waiting and wants to try it out. Or both. Or neither. Or something completely different. Either way, it hurts to admit it, but it hurts just as much to try to let it go.
As far as using drowning and water as a symbol for love, this is not my first. I have at least one other poem (in Finnish, I think) with a similar idea. It’s scary, it’s horrifying; you try your best to resist it, but when you finally give up, you turn into a mermaid and life is beautiful…
I admit, though, that I was originally planning to write something more personal, and I had prepared some ideas for such a poem. But once I started, I didn’t feel like doing that and went this way instead. The little pieces I had all fit quite nicely to the idea, and it has more to do with all the other poems I’ve written lately.
(And yes, “staring down a loaded gun” is a reference to Cemetery Drive by My Chemical Romance, one of my favorite songs.)