Midnight Comes
By s.j. blasko
Copyright © 2018 Sierra Blasko
Cover by Sierra Blasko
Author Photo by Leslie Buckley @blueeyedcraftyphotography
Illustrations by Melissa Connors @melissabeexo
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1720905150
ISBN-13: 978-1720905158
ASIN: B07DRPDHTL
For M.B.
For M.H.
For J.H.
For S.R.
And last but not least
For H.R.
Whose love and enthusiasm made me feel
Like the poems in this book
Were truly worth sharing
CONTENTES
Acknowledgements
Thirteen
Beastly
Rapunzel, with love
Mermaid’s Soul
Mirror, Mirror, on the wall
Lost and Found
About the Author
Acknowledgements
Every acknowledgements section I’ve ever read seems to start with some form of “it takes a village.” And yet, with the exception of a few wonderful people’s help, this book didn’t take a village.
But I did.
So to my family, who stood by me (and moreover, were excited with me) as I shrieked and panicked and broke down over this bundle of pages
To Faith and Soleil, my beta-readers who read it, and were nice enough to also read the sixth poem (which I threw at them after announcing the release in 5 weeks)
To my Mother, who has always believed in me, and who coached me through my distress over whether my poems were “Christian enough” or not
To Mr. Surette and Gabby, who sparked my interest in poetry again, and
To Michael, who wrote alongside me
To Hannah, who I’ve already thanked, but not sufficiently for all the love and encouragement she has so unconditionally given. This book (and me too) would not be in the place we are now without her
And lastly, to every person I have ever crossed paths with. I believe that nothing is ever coincidence, and I believe God has put every single person in my life for a reason
So I thank you all. And I thank God for you all.
“Some people seemed to get all sunshine, and some all shadow…”
― Louisa May Alcott, Little Women
Thirteen
The clock can’t strike thirteen.
Midnight’s chimes are the last call.
Cinderella hears the tolling and runs
Fleeing
Leaving
The prince on the dance floor
With only a memory
Of a dance with an angel
And a kiss like a whispered goodbye.
The clock can’t strike thirteen.
Midnight’s darkness never fades.
Ariel cradles the knife and weeps
Crying
Dying
Willing to break her own heart
If it will spare her prince.
He will never know
How many times she saves him.
The clock can’t strike thirteen.
Midnight’s hour is all there is left.
Marie watches mice pour across the carpet
Squeaking
Shrieking
Battle cries against any and all
Who dare oppose them
And the nutcracker’s troops
Are trapped in this forever war.
The clock can’t strike thirteen.
Midnight comes, and stays, and
Holding on will change nothing
(nothing.)
In the end
The future is a promise
The past is an echo
And we keep moving,
All of us,
Through time.
The clock can’t strike thirteen.
It strikes one, and the new day begins instead.
Beastly
It storms outside tonight
Frightful howls
Gusts of wind
Sweep through the treetops
It’s a wonder any of them stand
For it
Under it
Against it
Futile boughs swaying
They don’t scream
Silent as the whisper with which they sprouted from their seeds
The wind wails
In an agonized frenzy
The wind lashes and tears and rips
At the road
At the dirt
And the roaming stranger
Not far from dust herself
Me
I am she
I am the wanderer dressed in rags, cane in hand, mud darkening the crevices between teeth
I am in her
I am her
Ahead
A building
A shadow
A shade
Looms
The castle, covetable tonight.
Destroying the logs in the fireplace
Who mourn like their brothers outside
At the destruction
The destruction of their proud limbs
Pride came before the fall
The swing of the axe
And the donkey who brayed
(in laughter, or mourning, or bondage
They do not know
None can ever speak another’s language
Never perfectly
The trees in pain
Heard no deeper than the sound)
And the cart
Which brought them here
To the fire
Now reducing them
To charred remains.
Orange embers
White ash
and
Black soot
And
There is carpet
And cushions
And blankets and couches and drapes
All lie behind the door
I lift this feeble hand to knock
It shakes
Trembles
And these bones scream like the whistling wind in the treetops above
Silently
Someone comes
Someone comes to take me in
Take me in
It opens
A boy stands before me
Tall
Proud
arrogant lines twisting his face
As he towers
Tall
Proud
Like a tree
He takes one look
One look is all he needs
One glance at this withered form
Not a glimpse of the one beneath
“not an inn”
What irony
The door that opened in
Is not the door
To an inn
And in is not for me
As an inn would be
“only a moment”
I croak
voice dry like these bones
throat thick like the deluge of the night
“to warm my self by your fire”
“no”
My voice shivers
Not with cold
With fire
“please sir”
“sire”
He is a prince then
Little lord
Lording over the little
Tall in pride as well as frame
Tall like the trees
Who shake
And rattle their hands
The death rattle
For their kin and progeny
And all the pieces of themselves
They lose
Under the force of the storm
And inside
The trees in the fireplace echo
Echo their terrible silence
And the crack, sickening pop and wail
Of the ones who lay them low
This prince stares at me
Like I am scum on his shoe
Something he stepped in
Not worth touching
Even to rid himself of me
“please”
A whisper
A warning
As the storm screams and the fire answers
“please—
not even on a night like this”
“two miles down the road”
He turns
Turns to shut and bolt the door
Without mercy
Without pity
And the beast snaps
Like the fire
Like the branches
I rise up like flames, like sheets of torrential rain
Beautiful now
In my fury
In his eyes
More than I was before
More terrifying
More important
He is pale like one who sees ghosts
Not ghosts
Beasts
Great hulking monsters
Pariahs
Something he has never been
He will be now.
I raise my hands
My curse falls.
The axe fells the tree.
Rapunzel, with love
Dear mother
I am glad it’s spring.
The wind blows so sweet,
Through my window.
My one and only window.
My magic portal
Between the stone circle of my room,
And an infinity of horizons.
Don’t you think
It’s wonderful?
But to traverse it
Would be to fall, forever,
And die, probably.
So instead I sit on the sill,
Because I am happy, alive,
And it’s interesting
To see how much looking
(looking, looking, looking)
It will take for me to go mad.
Mother
I practiced out my plea
Metered out the words
Like gasoline.
Each was volatile
(one spark, and my world would burn)
And precious
(I was sure I’d pay for them later)
But I thought
They were worth the price.
Dear mother
I am sad, in my bones.
It is beautiful outside
And inside too.
The sun and the sky and the breeze
Seep in
Like blood, like watercolors.
My hair is clean and brushed and shines
Like fireflies, like gold.
You would be proud to see it.
(when will I see you?)
I think of you often
But I am still sad
Like night, like thunder.
Dear mother
I am alone
The sunlight calls to me
The birds sing to me
(not with me)
I wish sometimes they would,
That I could reclaim my voice.
But it hasn’t recovered
Yet
As if to sear the reminder of our argument
Somewhere I’ll never forget it.
The wind tugs at my hands
(the way I used to tug at yours)
And begs me to dance,
But if I listen
This little room
Will not be enough
For me.
Dear mother
I am painting.
I painted the floor
In blue, and green, and smears of gold
Across the grey stone.
But when the sunlight fell on it
It was ugly.
And so I washed it away
With well-water, with tears
Which froze my hands
And burned my face.
I might be sick.
I am hot, and cold, and tired
And my voice has not returned.
Dear mother
I am sorry.
I am sorry for the fire.
The flames my words ignited
Reckless, inconsiderate
Stupid words.
I am sorry
That you were stuck,
Burdened with a child like me,
A child
Who should have grown up
And out
Of childish things
Long ago.
I am sorry,
I am.
Come back, mother.
I do not need the sun
Or the sea
Or horses, or land, or a prince.
Only you.
Only you.
Mother
I thought I could survive the fallout.
I stood through the blast
And
The fire only singed my braid.
But I forgot
About the winter.
The winter of your discontent
The winter of my misery.
If I could go back
I would not start this war. I know that I can never win.
Dear mother… Forgive me.
Your Rapunzel, with love.
Mermaid’s Soul
i.
Sweet little mermaid
Safe beneath the sea
Sweet, angelic mermaid
Won’t you sing for me?
Brave little mermaid
So bold to leave the sea
Courageous little mermaid
But humans are not free
Foolish little mermaid
He loves another, see?
Silly little mermaid
What now will you be?
(Me.
Only me.
Always me.)
ii.
Have you ever downed a draught of gold?
Like liquid sunlight, icy cold
Which burns and cures with gentle touch
And leaves you aching far too much
A whole, a hole, too great to fill
Try as you might, you never will
It shreds and tears and rips and claws
And you wonder what it was you lost.
I felt it first on winter’s eve
As I breached the waves and breathed the breeze
Starlight tumbled from the sky, and
I wondered what it would cost to fly
Through air, instead of seawater’s brine
I spotted a ship and wished it were mine
My lot to stand on legs on land
Run, and leap, and skip, and dance.
iii.
The ache inside swelled day by day
And my heart hung heavy like molten clay
I could not eat, I had not the will
And when I slept, I rested ill
At last beneath the foamy waves
I went to the dark forbidden caves
Sought the counsel of the sea witch’s years
Caught her attention with the weight of my tears
She mixed me a brew and told me to drink
My home on the line, I stood on the brink
Traded my form, my voice, my sound
For the promise of fullness, at last being found
And every step on land was pain
Like knives and salt and poisoned rain
Fall in love, she’d said to me
If he loves you back, you’ll be complete
For souls are made of potions and spells
They have to be worked for, you have to do well
Nothing in life ever comes free
True love was the path to earn one for me
No voice, no song to grace my lips
I’d win hi
m over with the sway of my hips
It was all I’d need, she promised this
A beautiful thing, like I, couldn’t miss
I found the prince, he took me in
We sat on the shore, and I listened to him
I learned all his stories, he heard none from me
Each step was worth the agony
And I fell, I fell, how hard the fall
Like a star from the heavens, wormwood and gall
Poisoned against me the oceans, the lake
Mermaid or girl, my choice to make.
iv.
Woes come in threes, the first, my feet
The second, the water’s rejection of me
The third, the worst, a blow to the heart
My prince was betrothed to a princess afar
A princess in gold, with hair like stars
Who grew up in a castle, not haunting the wharves
Who smelled of perfume, not ocean’s breeze
Whose eyes were as green as the leaves of the trees
And how could I hate her, so kind and good
Who braided my hair like a sister would?
We walked on the beach, she bared her soul
Her nightmares and dreams on the sandy shoals
I loved my prince, but so did she
And as soon as she came I could plainly see
How his eyes lit up when she entered the room
And under his gaze, her smile bloomed
v.
It’s amazing what truths
Are in silence revealed
And what hand
Fate to each of us deals
They were wed on the beach
The prince and his love
And I watched from the side
As they set free the dove
Both bride and groom
Aglow with bliss
I stood alone with
My selfish wish
I left that night
Returned to the shore