i write poetry. so this is just a selection of some stuff i've written - i'll
try to update it every so often. comments are appreciated.
blood
i used to dream dreams of blood, of wars of street fights, every morning i awoke with a new battle scar to call my own. blood was something i could always understand, blood was pure and life giving, warm safe salty, blood was the way i could understand life and love. blood brother blood sister blood was a bond a tie that could never be broken. i swore on your bleeding palm that i would never leave you.
but as i grew older, rounder, blood took on a new meaning. i bore out the pain like the warrior that i was, but to my dismay my dreams shifted changed. still of blood but no longer of honor, i dreamed of being cut into pieces by a man with a long curved knife, i dreamed of being eaten alive.
each morning i awoke and ran screaming into the streets, little warrior child, now a woman and so shunned for being too much, or maybe not enough, but nevertheless i saw that i was alone. the dreams continued and you my blood brother learned to mock me as an outcast, warrior woman was not an acceptable thing to be.
i garnished my hair with feathers and beads, things befitting my status and i taught myself how to fight how to kill a man so i could be ready to kill the man with the long curved knife. but i never got the chance, i was always tied down before i could reach him.
i felt this strange sad loneliness, a warrior is a difficult thing to be, especially at sixteen, i gave in gave up and became something else. i was still the burning warrior inside but surfaces can always deceive and so they all thought they saw a strange new girl and so i let them see that.
with my new identity intact i could once again call on my blood brother, but never again could we share the bond of blood of mud, now it was a different sort of calling i did to you. i learned the pleasure of a new pain of saltiness and heat i learned to call you my own.
my dreams changed once again and this time i was sliced, my inner arms slit open as i became a fountain of blood, this time you were the one who did the cutting. but every night as you cut me you drank my blood you swore on this blood that you would always love me.
i marvelled at how it was the i could stay alive through the night after so much loss, out of practice i knew i no longer possessed my warrior integrity, but somehow i survived each night and lived until the next mosquito feast.
something changed, i swore there was a tumor inside of me, feeding on my stomach lining. the bleeding which had become almost sacred to me stopped and i grew frightened as the dry months added up. i tried to starve myself to purity, i grew pale and thin and coughed up blood and then i began to bleed again, as i grew sick i was carried away in a tidal wave of blood and water.
i felt pale and fractured, and maybe most of all alone or maybe a traitor to my heritage or something like that, i swore to never be everything to everyone again, i swore to only be myself, i dressed myself in the regalia of a warrior and i left for good.
© 1997 noagott@buffnet.net
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