#this after the how do you process grief post i just rb'd elsewhere

[shivunin]

OCs as Siken Poems

Tagged by @greypetrel to do this uquiz for my OCs. I love poetry, thank you for tagging me! I've only read a few of his in passing so this was fun.

Tagging, with no pressure: @scribbledquillz @zenstrike @star--nymph (and @demandthedoodles, belatedly tagging you as well; i think i remember you posting about liking poetry?) (and hey, if anyone else wants to do it, tag yourself or tell me and I'll tag you---my results were...surprising, so I'm curious about other people's).

(under the cut as it got a bit long)

Arianwen Tabris: "I Had a Dream About You" or "The Worm King's Lullaby"

Okay, so. Whoever made this uquiz: not cool. I think this is a case in point for art being subjective and everyone seeing something different in it, but I went into the first poem thinking it would be "going to waffle house at 3am with my friends, or late night road trips" (as the quiz said), but it was definitely about watching your lover die of a painful, incurable disease and being utterly helpless to save them. Absolutely beautiful, but not what it said on the box.

So anyways: now that I am done crying, here is a quote from the second poem that I think fits Wen better:

"It's getting late, Little Moon. Finish the song. It's not that late. You are my moon, Little Moon, and it's late enough. So climb down out of the tree. Is it safe? Safe enough. Are you dead as well?

The night is cold, it is silver, it is a coin."

Maria Hawke: "Scheherezade" or "Self-Portrait Against Red Wallpaper"

Both of these fit pretty well I think! Also the second one made me cry again. I have procured a box of tissues for the last, just in case.

"                                            Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us. These, our bodies, possessed by light.                                                                          Tell me we’ll never get used to it."

or:

"The world doesn’t know what to do with my love. Because it isn’t used to being loved. It’s a framework problem. Disheartening? Obviously. I hope it’s love. I’m trying really hard to make it love. I said no more severity. I said it severely and slept through all my appointments. I clawed my way into the light but the light is just as scary."

Emmaera Lavellan: "Saying Your Names" or "Lovesong of the Square Root of Negative One"

Wow.

"The waters of the dead, a clear road, every lover in the form of stars, the road blocked. All night I stretched my arms across him, rivers of blood, the dark woods, singing with all my skin and bone Please keep him safe. Let him lay his head on my chest and we will be like sailors, swimming in the sound of it, dashed to pieces. Makes a cathedral, him pressing against me, his lips at my neck, and yes, I do believe his mouth is heaven, his kisses falling over me like stars. Names of heat and names of light, names of collision in the dark"

or

"Through darkness, through silence, a vector a violence, I labor, I lumber, I fumble forward through the valley as winter, as water, I mist and frost, flexible and elastic to the task. I am the hand that lifts the rock, I am the mind that strings the worm and throws the line and feels the tug, the flex in the pole, and foot by foot I find the groove, the trace in the thicket, the key in the lock, as root breaks rock, from seed to flower to fruit to rot, a holy pilgrim moving through the stations of the yardstick."

Both extremely accurate and also beautiful; there is such a lovely rhythm to both of these and I want to just keep turning the words over and over. (like??? okay the way the rhythm of the line breaks with "i fumble"??? i need to lie down)

I think Emma's fit the best, but Maria's fit her in her hard moments. Wen's felt a lot more abstract. I'm going to think about it some more. Thanks again for tagging me in this, Arja! I do love poetry and these made me feel things.