yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."
i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.
the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.
mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.
later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.
sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.
but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.
i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.
every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.
wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?
the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:
he wants to say i love you
but keeps it to goodnight
because love will take some falling
and she's afraid of heights.
every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.
mahler's fifth still makes me sick.
give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.
give me back what you took from me.
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Stormclan is pretty cool, I’m glad they are a direct result of the clans and not Rouge Group 255674385 that pops up like Minecraft mobs at night
Didn’t ivypool kill beetlewhisker? Will they remember it
The mental image of playing minecraft and Darktail spawns on your roof like a spider, refusing to leave in the daylight and making annoying chittering noises, is magical thank you.
Anyway nah, that was Brokenstar. Ivypool killed Antpelt, not Beetlewhisker. I have doubts they're going to remember that though, and if they do, it'll be one of those "don't worry guys we TOTALLY remember the events in our series!" throwaway lines we've been getting recently. The type that's thought in her head or thrown out in passing, but doesn't significantly contribute to Ivypool's emotional struggle.
I think Ivypool's actually the part of this SE that I'm most apprehensive about, funny enough. StormClan's got me pretty excited, but my hopes kinda started falling when I found out Dovewing was going on the road trip. I do not like the story that the Erins tell between the sisters, and I feel like they keep getting forced together to "reconcile their differences" when it would make a MUCH more effective story for the two of them to not do that.
See, what I like about Ivypool is that she's grudge-holding and spiteful. I LIKE that she tried to leverage her sisterhood with Dovewing in ASC to try and make her manipulate her husband. I find the fact she tried to sabotage SkyClan's chances at the lake back in AVoS to halt Dovewing and Tigerheart's relationship, slighting her apprentice in the process, to be COMPELLING.
I ENJOY reading about Ivypool being nasty. Both a victim of the Dark Forest who was targeted because she felt alienated, and yet, someone who has found a way to use Clan culture's most unfair aspects to her advantage. She'll NEVER see herself as the bully she actually is, because in her eyes, she's permanently the underdog.
so... I just have absolutely no desire to see Dovewing and Ivypool be "close."
Every time it happens on the page, it feels like it's Dovewing desperately wanting her sister to not treat her poorly, or believe in her, or just stop actively sabotaging her life. Then, Ivypool realizes this after a while and displays emotional intelligence that feels unfitting for her character, and apologizes.
It feels forced.
Like it's just happening because the authors know the fans want it, and not actually what these two characters would do. You get me?
I don't want to see them reconnect. I want more bittersweet examples in WC where family members have irreconcilable differences, but now and then, there's that little twinge of love, that old spark that you pray, THIS time, could become a fire... but it doesn't. There's just nothing left to burn.
TL;DR I'm feeling overall meh about Ivypool's Heart but looking forward to seeing what StormClan's all about.
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