A Field of Gems

I wake and exhale and watch the steam curl from your mouth

Like dragon smoke, it clouds the ceiling of our shitty tent

The rising sun dips everything in gold

We are like bugs trapped in amber

And I think: if archeologists of the future could study this moment, what would they wonder?

Where did we come from…

How did we get here…

They wouldn’t guess the hunger and cold we wake to each day

They would think you look so peaceful

So safe

They’d wonder what you were dreaming about

—but—

I hope you’re not dreaming at all

Dreaming makes waking all the more painful

Even the happiest dreams fade in the stark morning light

You try to hold them but they slip through your fingers

Soft memories and vague hopes magnify the agony of our broken world

I hope you’re not dreaming

I wish you a peaceful, empty sleep

I wiggle out of my sleeping bag

And wince as the chill seeps in to rest against my skin

My lungs ache and cough

I curse this frigid air

I want to curl miles deep inside the earth, deep enough to find some warmth

I want to hibernate

To disappear in a dreamless sleep

I want to stay there forever and never see this wasted land again

But you are here and our water bottles are frozen

You need me

To thaw your water

To scavenge your food

To teach you and to keep you

Hidden

To pull you away from each pressing danger

A shiver seizes me

I unzip the tent

Nothing stirs, only cold ashes and snow crystals

They dance in the wind

But the aching field glitters

Dead grass crusted with ice

… it’s very pretty, though I can’t admit it

Instead I think of our bitter losses

And the life you deserve

I watch the field of gems shimmer

And I think of you

How can I soften the blow of whatever happiness you dream?

…

I shall risk a fire

To thaw our water

To warm our last tin of food

When you wake you shall be greeted

With some warmth

With some breakfast

And with a pretty view

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Authors note:

Thanks for reading,

Please don’t hesitate to share any suggestions or criticism :)

Poetry is something I only got into a couple years ago, and to be totally frank, I don’t feel confident at all with this kind of writing, especially when it comes to rhythm.

But I find I really enjoy writing poems, though I feel clumsy.

Also, I like writing to music, and this is what I had going while writing:

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I wrote this as a submission to the “Frosted Verse” vocal+ poetry challenge.

All the current vocal+ challenges seem kinda gushy, sentimental, and comforting. But I really find dark themes more compelling, so I followed the prompt in a post apocalyptic setting :)

There’s still time before the deadline if you want to participate in this specific challenge. Here’s the announcement: