Crimson Quicksand

School and work have been absolutely insane as of late. I haven’t gotten around to finishing A Clockwork Orange, let alone writing up a post about it. Sincerest apologies. I will do my best to find the time to get that post up.

In the interim, here is an original poem I recently dug up from some old journals I used to fill on a nightly basis when I was younger. I wrote this years ago at the angst-ridden age of 13 (this is actually one of the newer journals I found). I have been weeding through and re-purposing some of them to hopefully end up in The Grab Bag.

This poem in particular has remained relatively untouched since the night I wrote it. I know it is far from perfect or impressive, but it’s one of those things that almost means more to me because of its imperfection. The strictly structured rhyming pattern and inconsistent rhythm actually drives me insane now, but this is an incredibly accurate snapshot of this era of my growth and development as a writer. It’s nostalgic.

That being said, I realize that the sentimental factor that drives my inclination to keep this poem in its current state might not resonate with you. You very well may just be annoyed or appalled that I posted this for all to see. I get it. Maybe I’ll end up reworking this, maybe I won’t.

Any and all feelings/feedback welcomed and appreciated. Take it easy, though. 13 year old Maria didn’t really know what she was doing.

 

Crimson Quicksand:

 

Don’t believe a word they say

No one’s so strong to see the dawn of day

To fend of mind; a ceaseless fight

Whose ally lies in lack of light

 

“What’s wrong with you?” the voice still screams

My life, my mind, now rip at seams

Never sewn tight and damned from the start

But my mind’s violent knives hadn’t yet pierced my heart

 

I see the blood kiss the blade as it slides to my hand

Diving hopelessly from fingertips to the crimson quicksand

A deeper shade of death than my eyes had ever seen

In a deeper state of mind than we were ever meant to be

 

As the darkness envelops me, reeking of fear, remorse, defeat

All my fears then turn to rage, and then rage gives way to peace

 

For your mind’s lost control; freed your body, let go soul

And though your fate is to sink

At least, at last, something’s sure as ink

 

The sand, once feared, weighs heavy on my chest

And whispers to me sneering “You can’t escape what happens next.”

And though I find it harder and harder to breath

I, at last, hear the sound of a long lost heartbeat

 

Like music to my ears, I thought it gone for good

It took facing death itself, to do just what is should

 

Or if it was there all along, I simply couldn’t hear

With my mind a kaleidoscope, a tyrant inciting fear

Distorting the world, demanding to be heard

Changing reality as I know it, with only a word

 

Bidding me closer, leading to deeper quicksand

I’ve no strength left for questions, so I take the outstretched hand