The Interior of my Sepulcher


*For mindlovemisery’s prompt, which you can find HERE!

TAKE HEED – This is going to be very long, this is going to be very personal and this can be triggering to some people.

The Interior design of my Sepulcher

– I –

The first time we ever kissed
I was golden haired
I came to you fragile,
hypnotized and drawn,
following the droplets
rushing through the patterns;
I never noticed where the edge stops
and baby blue begins.

I breathed your chlorine,
I inhaled your containment,
I could feel your sweet essence
nesting between my ribs,
little rivulets of poison
claiming this body as their own.
Down under,
the isolation sheltering me
like a crooked mother;
below the surface
learning to become one
with my alpha components;
In current-less silence
and the melodic buzz
the bubbles danced out spirituosity-
no thirst,
no screams,
no hunger,
no wounds;
we were unity-
a child married death,
and cursed
when they pulled her out to see the Sun.

– II –

First time
that I ever forgot you,
it was Winter –
in my bones,
in my heart,
in my every single word.
I was a maiden,
the bitter last frost
rebelling on my lips;
benumbed skin
yearning warmer graves and serenity.
The riverbeds were silent,
only their hands stretched out
like lullabies;
I never glanced at how
the chipped wood boards
were a millimeter landscape,
swaying like a soft brushstroke
upon the dirty emeralds
and I could hear you whisper,
I could smell
the safety of your womb
in the air,
that familiar heartbeat lackage,
needlessness to breathe,
just walking
closer and closer
until I fell down from this Earth
and I could feel your reeds
caressing my hair
like the gentlest of hands-
suspended inside of you
I awaited
to join the periwinkle caravans
and to be whole again,
I would be good again-
I was gargling you
the prettiest, purest song
a clay princess
could yell out
how the world made sense again,
illusions dispersed
and halleluiah,
my lover brought me home.

My mundane,
my gray anathemas,
my boulders and rocks
and pebbles
and empty cellophane lies
waited like vultures,
grabbed and tugged
my mortal coil
with their seizing of the moment-
I could see it all
in my father’s eyes,
my chest
abandoned morphing into opercula,
a million miles of universes
into swimming up;
and it was cold again,
it was March again
and I said
“I’m all right,
just let me swim,
just let me swim,
just let me swim,
I didn’t die.”

– III –

That first time I ever teased you,
I was an ustion
dreaming to be small and insignificant,
a budding summer of a thousand
half chewed pomegranates
smeared upon tiles and carpets
to reminisce a beaten pulse-
and I needed you
and I craved you
for I was dry as the mornings that burdened me;
and I summoned you for days and days,
the faucet running-
touching that raging waterfall
with my fingers
candid, softly,
like I was touching mercy;
years and interiors
like sketches
blended with the steam
of confessionals and rancid eulogies
and irises widened;
the room melted
into porcelain bathysphere.

I collected white stars
in this aquarium,
I felt your voice in my throat,
like a lime scale necklace
for the vocal cords
and I was you again,
and I was me again,
just like I was at the beginning;
you jolted me like a timid thunder
my innocence given to an entity
without a name,
but an in-between starvation
cringed in ripples and in waves
like a soul once again free
for the last time,
like holding hands tightly before leaving,
into the smog horizon,
birthed, suited,
and my lover teaches me to say farewell
because he knows that I am not water
and I need arms and legs;
I need to breathe.

– IV –

I miss you
each time the Mediterranean winds
lodge on my windows;
You mingle in the crowds of raindrops
and I run with open mouth to taste you;
for I am whole again then,
I feel you and I pack
a suitcase of nothing,
to go to you,
I am me again-
I dive and I twirl
and I am a mermaid,
I blow and I puff and I hum
to remind you of what is still yours,
I osculate the sea;
my collected seashells
like a photo album of birthdays,
my heart’s little pieces
floating like buoys,
mysterious like lore of
painted naked Nereid
hanging in the Louvre,
and I fear each time,
that you will beckon me
for one more waltz,
and I will heed again,
I will be water again
and I will drown.

*This is one of the most personal poems I ever wrote. The prompt was “Losing control”. I almost drowned when I was two and a half years old. Despite this, I fell in love with water, I wanted to live in it, I wanted to be under it, everytime I would find myself near water a feeling would come ever, a hypnosis – and next thing I know, I would be under the surface not feeling like going out. Because of this, I almost drowned a second time, when I was 8 years old. I was at the river with my dad, he left me alone,I looked at to the  water and I just free-fell in it. It was winter and it was very cold. When I was 13, I almost drowned myself in the bathtub, it was full of water and this loss of control that comes over me near water took me and I just free-fell again and it felt like I can’t move. With this poem, I am speaking to the water.All in all, I hope this makes the poem a bit easier to understand. Thank you for reading!

I want to turn this into a spoken piece, thoughts deeply appriciated!

~ by Oloriel on August 30, 2013.

48 Responses to “The Interior of my Sepulcher”

  1. It is very powerful and detailed conversation about your insecurities and struggle with water. I hope in spite of number of misshapenings it has finally learned to love you.

    • Thank you very much for taking time to read and comment! My realtionship with water now is happy, but there is and I think will always be that little doubt in me as to will this loss of control happen again.
      In a way, it is very weird, because I respect the relationship that me and water have and all the lessons that these event taught me.

      • I must say you are really brave to never give up on trying. I myself had a drowning experience once and since then I try myself not to go in a significant water level.

      • I think I am more crazy than brave 🙂 I do get scared sometimes when in water tho

      • It’s all the same.. bravest people are the craziest.
        There is something I wanted to tell you about your writing. It is just so magical, the method you explain things, it’s so captivating that it keeps readers engaged throughout. I wish if I could learn to write your way. It’s brilliant.

  2. We have so much in common it is scary ya know? When I was very young I went from the kid pool to the adult pool and jumped in I remember looking over at my mom as I was flailing helplessly trying to swim and she looked at me very coldly and turned away. A man saved me instead and I remember riding with her in the car after and she just had this look why didn’t you just die. She would always put me in a tub of very hot water and leave it to run over, never attending to me. The floor in the bathroom was rotted through because of it. When I was 4 I saw the ocean for the first time and ran into the water mesmerized by the waves. I was pulled under and as I was dragged over the ocean floor by the massive current I just remember feeling peace. I used to spend upwards of 6 hours in the bath experimenting with being underwater, swimming around the tub in a weird contortionist manner that I cannot explain. I have nearly drowned several other times in addition but I never developed a fear of water even after what my mom did. I don’t think I wanted to die, I just wanted peace I guess. I am actually starting swimming classes this Sunday. I can’t swim I can float and tread and kind of do a bit of this and that but it is sloppy, Epilepsy kind of makes me forget how to use my body so I do not even know if I can learn and retain. I really want to learn to swim though it will always be unsafe for me to swim alone but I want to be near the water. My dad and grandfather are inhumanly strong swimmers. This is so beautiful, rich, and devastating. Wow I wish I could write as well as you do, you are brilliant

    • I know,right? I was thinking now while reading,if the two of us write biographies,people might think its one same book by two different publishers!
      My first drowning was in the swimming pool as well. I wanted too bad to get in the water that I completely forgot I have no inflatable thingies on my arms and I just walked straight into the deepest end of the adult pool. My parents saw what was happening and my dad asked my mom What is she doing and she said Just let her. The lifeguard pulled me out. I feel a huge amount of rage while reading what your mother was doing to you.I hated bath time with my mother as well, she would not leave me in water,but she would yell at me after and put the blowdryer so close to my head I was getting burns and brush my hair like she was mowing a forest with the brush. I feel so shit knowing our family stories have so much in common.
      I never wanted to die, it is a weird feeling, saying “I was drowning and it felt great!, but everything under water felt so quiet, so unimportant,so stressless. I was doing the same thing in the bathtub as you,swimming and diving and playing for hours and I did same at sea, everyone would tell me You don’t swim in the water, you dive. I would swim way far into the middle of the bay,dive as deep as I could and I would just twirl and dance and try to talk and laugh under.
      I will be thinking about you and your swimming class, I really hope it will be a wonderfull experience to you and I know how much it would be special and mean to you ❤

  3. A marvellously deep (no pun intended) piece.
    Water still scares the bejesus out of me!

    • Thank you!
      Water is I think the perfect epitome of Mother Nature – rain feeds the crops ,but too much of it and the flood kills and terraforms. I hope you will one day get to overcome your fear and see how great water can be.

  4. It was quite a tour de force of images. I’m glad that you explained about the water iussue afterwards. I thought you were speaking perhasps to your mother bewcasuse there seemed so much birthing imagery involved. Very powerful piece.>KB

    • I hope the tour de imagery force was a clean,enjoyable one – and that it didn;t feel like it was consuming steroids 🙂
      I felt the need to explain,because indeed I have used a lot of imagery to describe sentiments and scenes that could easily be associated with being born into the world by a mother, but what I actually wanted to convey is that my every meet with water leaves me feeling like that – like I was just brought into the world anew.
      Thank you very much for reading!

  5. This really got inside me… It’s a love poem, I think. I’ve read it twice, and I want to read it again. And I’m wondering what the water represents for you, why it calls to you so, because I really do feel it’s a love story. And a very powerful one. It…almost speaks of a past life… ~ It was a great “give” of yourself to write something like this. It’s wonderful. More please! [smile] ~ Bill

    • Thank you very much for this heartfelt comment!This poem is a love song of sorts, for I will always love something that I love, even if I get hurt and I love water, I have not been to the seaside in more then five years,but am looking forward to stepping into the ocean for the first time next year,
      Thank you a million times for reading and taking time to share your thoughts and feelings with me.

      • BTW – If you see that I’ve ‘followed” your blog (again), it’s because I was trying to copy your link as a part of an award-share, and with the cursor positioned near the top, accidentally hit the “Following” icon…, which, of course, un-followed you… (crap! sorry!). So, quickly “followed” you again… ~ Just wanted to explain that… 😉 ~ B

      • No worries, friend! There is tons of WP glitches and misshaps that tend to happen:D

  6. This is a stunning piece of writing that while so personal to you, nevertheless speaks to others. A few hours ago I was swimming in Lake Geneva, at one point I was so relaxed and happy floating on the water that I felt myself almost fall asleep (lose control), and I had to remind myself that water has a dangerous side.

    • Thank you very much for reading!I am glad to hear other people are also familiar with this allure that water has and the serenity and peace it offers, often making us want to instinctively let go into her. I am glad you enjoyed swimming!:D

  7. Wow… just wow!! This is pure magnificence, my friend. Such a powerful piece that jolts the soul. I actually almost drowned when I was little and went the opposite route… I still don’t know how to swim and I’m terrified to be under water. But this poem makes me realize, one can overcome such things. The past can stay in the past and you can surely embrace something that almost killed you.

    • I am sorry that you had to expirience something bad as this. Even tho we are strongest and most fast on our paths when we emerge vistorious over our pasts alone, I believe there is nothing quite like having a person you can completely trust gently leading you into the water, a person of trust holding you while teaching you to swim, a person of trust to make peace between the cruel side of the water and your fear and I trully believe this will one day happen to you and if not that you will when you are ready, conquer your fear and your past and grow wiser from it 🙂

  8. You leave me breathless (no pun intended) with the power of your words. I love how rich and vivid your writing is. It is rather awe inspiring. 🙂

  9. Breathtaking, Oloriel. Thank you for sharing that personal experience in your characteristically vivid and visceral writing style. I did vote, but want to reiterate that I would love to hear an audio of this. Bravo! xoxo

  10. Beautiful writing, Oloriel! I do hope water doesn’t call you quite so loudly to freefall to it anymore though!

    • Thank you, the call of water is much more gentle now, but I can never trully know if it will sing the old tune again. Thank you very much for reading!:)

  11. Powerful writing, Oloriel. You mingle in the crowds of raindrops / and I run with open mouth to taste you—I love lines like these… That’s what I’ll always try to come up with in my own poetry, though sometimes they don’t work and I end up erasing them :p

  12. Speechless, Oloriel, this is so powerful! I almost drowned in it, really. Your imagery and language are breathtaking. And what an intimate explanation, thank you.

  13. So many have commented, I just wanted to say it is beautiful and moving, powerful and I recognized the siren that is water. Thanks for sharing!

  14. Wow. This piece kept me hooked from the beginning until the end. Very powerful piece and your language is very rich. A great read. Thank you for sharing, Oloriel.

    • Thank you very much for reading, it makes me very happy to hear that in a long, personal and emotional piece like this I have managed to keep your attention to the poem the whole time 🙂

  15. it felt like the depths within your soul speaking…mesmerizing words you paint with …..a tidal wave of emotions…
    Thank you sharing such a personal part of your journey….
    Take Care…You Matter…

  16. […] The Interior of my Sepulcher, by Oloriel @ […]

  17. You did an excellent job in personifying your relationship to water. At one point I thought you were speaking to your mother, at many others, your lover, certainly an affair beyond your control, but I am glad you have survived.

    • Thank you very much for taking time to read this. I realise at places it reminds of a mother relationship, because it is how the water felt to me, like a womb and each this near drowning time, like being born.

  18. just this evening
    I was recapturing first memories
    I’m three years old
    walking with an older brother
    the first snow and freeze of the year
    on a small pond
    feeling, hearing ice
    walking towards a lighter patch
    fast breathes
    fear, cold
    wailing cries
    my older brother pulls me out
    dragging me to the farm house
    suffocating gasps
    fever, bed ridden
    in-and-out of dreams

  19. Your words mirror what my soul cannot speak. So raw, but I loved it!

  20. I am blown away by this. It takes a great mind, with complexity, pain, much intellect and soul to craft such a wonderful work.

    • Most of it was pain and twisted love, spiced with an endless need to feel At Home. Thank you very much for taking time to read and leave me a word of your own!

  21. LOVE the title, especially. And I would love to hear it read. Poetry is made so much more magical and poignant when someone gives it an inspired voice. My favorite line of this poem is:
    “touching that raging waterfall
    with my fingers
    candid, softly,
    like I was touching mercy;”
    I can relate to that yearning to be comforted, to be protected, to lose yourself in a safe place. Water is healing for me, always has been. The world melts away when I’m in the water. So, why the hell do I live in the high desert??? 🙂 Thank you for sharing something so personal with this world.

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