Poetry through the Seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Our lives have splintered,
way found
becoming way lost.
Perhaps I should have
stayed away.
Removing your mask
from the wall,
I wear it.
It’s no good being me.
Like a stray cat,
I wander.
No cream to comfort.
Holding my burden close,
I speak, but
music surrounds me,
too loud,
and my friends
cry long my faults.
I battle fear,
but keep a few monsters
to myself
for another time.
Your name is a song,
I’m lost in the chorus.
Hiding out from my life,
from your death,
I work hard to forget,
filling ketchup, pouring coffee,
wandering streets
in missing pieces. I am
no one.
Despair’s gates, like heavy
bars, crush even murmurs
of love remembered
‘til destiny, in its way,
draws me homeward
and, in its embrace,
I begin to heal.
Love,
only love,
guides me
into the desert
with no water,
into the ocean
with no vessel,
and deep
into the darkness
with no hope
of redemption.
Good and evil battle
like lovers.
She lies still
and he, tortured,
the bloody sword sliding
through her fingers.
As winter snow
brings forth blossoms
pushing hope from the frozen ground,
what was good in him returns.
Breathing his name,
she holds him,
though their time is almost gone.
They kiss, as in a dream,
and say I love you,
but it doesn’t save them.
But, this time,
it does save the world.
close your eyes
and let me guide you to the darkness
No home.
No heart.
No breath.
Just here.
Just barely.
All the blossoms,
all the hope
held so deeply in her heart,
disappear,
as in a rear view mirror,
and leave her standing,
just barely,
and the world keeps turning,
as worlds tend to do.