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Poem by Raiha: Blood Like Water-[M-V]


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[center][FONT=Times New Roman][COLOR=DarkOrchid]Blood Like Water-[M-V]

Feeling so out of sorts today,
Running around, getting things done, never not nearly enough,
And there's always the nagging fear-
That something will be out of place.
And the knot won't come undone inside my stomach,
I feel as if I've been destroyed and I am afraid and I am lonely.

Underneath this mask of flippancy,
I feel, angry at life, and always nearly insane.
Something isn't right inside,
Something isn't right outside,
But I'm too afraid to look and find out what's going on,
In the darkness that I call my own.

Water collects in pools around me,
On skin, with steam rising, obscuring my narrow vision,
It scored my skin over and left it,
Pink from being burned again,
And again and again and again,
But it's only self inflicted and it feels so good.

There's that intake of breath just before,
Water hits, and marks skin, even if it's imagined,
I still know that this isn't healthy,
Even if it washes away the filth,
That's real or imagined and collecting on my body,
And I've begun to feel even more these passing days...

...A growing sense of urgency,
To leave, get far away, from this horrible place,
And even if it's all in my mind,
I still feel that I'm being watched on all sides,
And every move I make is disapproved of by everyone,
That they merely tolerate my presence.

Someone long dead knew no man wanted that,
Man wanted, acceptance over tolerance, and to be loved,
The best feeling anyone could have,
And the feeling I don't have,
Because instead of a place where nobody looks at me,
Without hatred...

I'm here in a place where everyone does,
And she, my awful roommate, knows she hates me,
It's no secret but it eats at me anyway,
Would that I could cause her pain,
Like I've come to know,
And watch her blood collect on my skin like water.

Such a pleasurable fantasy,
Almost there, but not quite, it's never good enough,
Instead I content myself watching,
Bob Flanagan be tortured,
Writhing and screaming in ecstasy,
Does more for me than dreaming.

Is it pornographic?
I don't care.

I like it.[/COLOR][/FONT][/center]
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[color=deeppink][size=1]I LOVED the ending of this poem. It was so raw and powerful, like a dull, deep shock. The rest of the poem was very good as well - it gave off the feeling of intense honesty, not trying to mask anything, nor trying to sugar it up or make it fancy with long and pretty words (something which I tend to do a lot, hehe.) Also, I thought the continued imagery of the skin and water was excellent. I drew a metaphor from it - The burning water on your skin represents your masochistic attempts to make yourself perfect, perfect taking on a very negative meaning, a person who must always be ready for whatever life throws their way, to never have any selfish moments and to simply be everything everyone else wants them to be, instead of their own person.

And then, the 'blood like water' made that even more striking, if you continue to draw relationships between metaphors. Her blood is your rage expressed, it is masochistic and sadistic at the same time, the blood is thin and diluted like water, but it still brings you this empty sense of satisfaction.

The only criticism I have of this piece is that while the free style works VERY well for this poem, there are times when the beat feels really off, and makes the poem choppy to read. But, I think this is definitely one of the much better poems I've seen on OB.

I hope to see more poetry from you, your style is a refreshing change. :p

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