Poetry: #80 Bloody Wine (Demise 18)
And my thoughts after revisiting the words
Bloody Wine
Her lips as sweet as any poison, the kind that steels your very soul in sin. The essence of my dreams she filled me, the weakness of the thought my own pleasure. No. I cannot think of anything but the breath. The ice will both freeze and burn my bones. And when she rests her hands upon my neck, the eyes staring back are an endless chasm. They penetrate mind and soul, all I am. And yet they see resistance to her gaze. They know my every thought and pace; even as we begin another embrace. I see her mind wonder on to traps laid on my path beyond. Next thing I know she has plans for more, as she sets about her chores. Another kiss, touch, breath, then look, the piercing gaze of those eyes, her eyes. I know the truth yet still fall for love, I don't just lust but demand as well. Even on my knees I will beg for her But try I don't need anymore she's a temptress after all. As she lies here; her chores finished. The luster of the sheets encase her. And she stares through the ceiling, never moving a muscle. The silky sheets shift only to her breath her stillness in and out; chest rising and falling. Even as her eyes close the sheets stop moving. The moon in full illuminates her face; the glow of the distance that seems to fall away. It makes her glow and she is a corpse. Her blood is as stone without remorse, as her skin is ice to my unsure touch. Her eyes, they open, filled with tears. She turns away, hiding from me her fears. And just like that she is gone.
What are your thoughts on this poem?
My Thoughts on Demise 18
Of all the excuses the man can use, feeling this way about a woman is certainly at the top of the “reasonable” excuse list. I say reasonable, because love, true affection for another, is not something to trifle with. It is a drug, one of the strongest ones available to us. If this is how the man felt, then I can empathize with him. I can feel these words, the emotion, the pain, the longing, the passion, the hurt—everything. Where did these words come from? They came from a rewrite (and a change in point of view) of a poem that my then ex-girlfriend wrote after being inspired by a song—suffice to say they were popular in the 2014-2020 era.
At the end of the day, I drew from the emotion of this poem to flesh out the main character of this collection. This was what drove him to care so deeply, and why he felt betrayed and lashed out in such a striking way. It is a lesson to readers to not be controlled by your emotions. If you aren’t ready to handle certain situations, there is no shame in saying “I’m not ready to take this step.” Should you excuse yourself from anything uncomfortable? No. Should you know your limits before becoming a mess like the main character of this story (and even myself in many ways at the time I wrote this)? Yes.
I think the poem and what it represents, the metaphors and descriptions, are self-evident and do not require much input, but I will touch on two lines in particular: “Her eyes, they open, filled with tears. She turns away, hiding from me her fears.” These strike an image in my mind that I cannot escape without conscious effort. After everything they experience together, she hides from him. It is a brutal scene to witness, to live through, to read. It’s one of the most brutal scenes I’ve written in poetry in my opinion, and it shows the depths of thought I was consumed by at the time of writing it.
If you were to ask if I was ever ruled by emotion, my answer lies in the subject matter and inspirations for the emotion in this very poem. I lived most of this poem (save a few embellishments), and part of understanding what I was going through was writing it down—writing it out. The torrent that I experienced slowed and I was able to move on, armed with the knowledge of what real and true love and affection could represent as well as the dark side that comes with it. Used covers that in more personal detail, where Demise explores characters that took what I provided them and wrote their own stories.
Question Section
I’ve asked similar questions already in this collection, but when have you been ruled by your emotions? What was it like? How have you come to terms with such situations from the past and whenever they come up? If you wish, share what you are comfortable with in the comments.
I hear another poem is coming every Saturday!