if I were

Reading what I have just written, I now believe

that if I were to die, I will not remember any of the words I have written, nor the words I have read,

how shall I tell it?

The tree itself will live far longer than I. It is lovelorn, it is the red pine that falls like clockwork. Only then would I think I saw this before. Fossils and skull-caps of the ocean, it rapes each wave onto the root-llano, the flower of death.

Kneels, the dark mossy rain, it was finding your bones. The upbringing of a stranger not myself.

How I stir from the comeuppance of a dream, or is it the hand that digs the flower’s thorax and ribwort leaf into my side? Give me the thorn instead, and I’ll stab it in my ribs just to feel something.

© 2020 lucysworks.com All Rights Reserved.


Written for the dVerse prompt: Write a piece of prose (fiction, nonfiction, or creative nonfiction) that is 144 words or less in length, and includes the line “Reading what I have just written, I now believe”.


  64 comments for “if I were

  1. SteelWarrior/PoetOfSteel
    December 7, 2020 at 3:51 pm

    “Woah, this is heavy!”
    -Marty McFly

    Liked by 2 people

  2. December 7, 2020 at 3:53 pm

    That last sentence is disturbing! Yeeeeow!

    Liked by 4 people

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:03 pm

      Hahaha, thanks! That was not my intention initially. I wanted to showcase feelings of nothingness versus wanting to finally feel something. Thank you so much for your feedback, Lillian.

      Liked by 2 people

  3. December 7, 2020 at 4:00 pm

    This is excellent!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. December 7, 2020 at 4:04 pm

    No, when we are dead we won’t remember a thing, but sticking a thorn in the flesh will at least leave a short memory.

    Liked by 2 people

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:04 pm

      I believe that too. Just as most of us cannot recall a past life, it’s still intriguing to wonder.

      Thank you so much for your feedback, Jane. It’s much appreciated. ❤

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Gillena Cox
    December 7, 2020 at 4:05 pm

    This has dark undertones , very clever write

    Happy Monday

    Much❤love

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:05 pm

      Thank you, Gillena. ❤ ❤

      Like

  6. December 7, 2020 at 4:08 pm

    There is something raw and tortured in this writing which stings like that thorn at the end. Your dream sounds quite nightmarish and tormented.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:05 pm

      Thank you, Ingrid! Luckily, this was not my dream.

      Liked by 1 person

      • December 8, 2020 at 5:53 am

        A wonderful imaginative piece then!

        Liked by 1 person

  7. sanaarizvi
    December 7, 2020 at 4:10 pm

    Love this especially; “The tree itself will live far longer than I. It is lovelorn, it is the red pine that falls like clockwork.” Your writing is mesmerizing as always! swoon 💝💝

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:05 pm

      Thank you, Sanaa. You are so sweet and kind.

      Liked by 1 person

  8. December 7, 2020 at 4:10 pm

    Indeed… being numb in a void is so much worse than the pain of a thorn… really well written.

    Liked by 4 people

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:06 pm

      Oh, you summed it up better than I could have. That is the whole essence of this poem. Thank you so, so much.

      Liked by 1 person

  9. Glenn A. Buttkus
    December 7, 2020 at 4:58 pm

    Damn, Lucy, your prose titillates, torments, and amazes just much like your poetry. I get all Zen about death. I’d like to believe the soul remembers every word and every moment of their past life during the “life review”.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:09 pm

      Oh, Glenn, this is quite the compliment! Thank you so much.

      “I’d like to believe the soul remembers every word and every moment of their past life during the “life review”.”

      I must ask: Have you ever read “Many Lives, Many Masters” by Dr. Brian Weiss. The life review is a concept he goes over after the soul leaves the body, and there are different “planes” we cross to depending on what we have learned in each life we cycle. It’s very philosophical.

      I’d like to believe that we remember everything during then as well; I feel it makes it more worthwhile, the ability to recall.

      Like

  10. December 7, 2020 at 5:29 pm

    Great work Lucy! The ocean way washes all of that which was us away!! Your last lines remind me of the Johnny Cash song, Hurt!

    Liked by 1 person

  11. December 7, 2020 at 5:47 pm

    A Catholic girl can never escape the Church and its “sacrifice”. Very Dark and very cool Lucy!

    Liked by 2 people

  12. December 7, 2020 at 5:53 pm

    It must be sad and scary not to feel–and so much so that pain is welcomed.
    I always get little movies in my head from your poems. This one was a Catherine from Wuthering Heights sort of scene on the moors. 🤣 I’m imagining ghosts, too.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 6:11 pm

      I think it’s sad and scary too, but mostly sad when you welcome pain to finally feel something that stirs you.

      Oh wow, really? That is so awesome! 😄

      Liked by 1 person

      • December 8, 2020 at 3:22 pm

        😀 I think I have to make narratives of everything in my mind. Even in my test-writing, I imagine a whole backstory/scene.

        Liked by 1 person

  13. December 7, 2020 at 6:19 pm

    Killer writing, Lucy. This piece elicits all kids of feelings. Well done!

    Liked by 1 person

  14. December 7, 2020 at 6:52 pm

    Stepping off nicely from the given prompt, and building beautifully all the way to that FANTABULISTIC closing sentence, Lucy, this piece R.O.C.K.S!!
    I bow before thee.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 7:44 pm

      Aww, thank you so very much! 😀

      Like

  15. December 7, 2020 at 8:00 pm

    I don’t know. I’ve been in such pain before I think it burnt my nerve ending. I find that not feeling is preferable. But, then again, someone like me can’t be a proper judge, maybe.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 7, 2020 at 8:03 pm

      That is entirely understandable. It is, after all, subjective. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

  16. December 7, 2020 at 9:05 pm

    great questions Lucy … I think we are reborn but are too confused to remember. I am hoping with training we can/will recall.

    And that numb not knowing is real progress … hope you are not self-harming.

    Liked by 3 people

    • December 7, 2020 at 9:10 pm

      Thank you so much, Kate.

      No, I do not self-harm. Most of the poems I write, they are never from my perspective. The “narrator” changes, so it’s more of the poem having its own identity. I get ideas, thoughts, on what to write and I do put something of my own here and there. Usually when I do, I explain in an author’s note; but even as a “poetess of darkness”, I am actually quite happy and well. 😀

      I hope that clears everything up, but I thank you for the concern.

      Liked by 3 people

      • December 7, 2020 at 9:18 pm

        grateful to know that Lucy as whenever I read your work I have wondered … you certainly know how to unleash the dark side 🙂
        that probably helps!

        Liked by 3 people

  17. December 7, 2020 at 11:57 pm

    Your blog is amazing 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 8, 2020 at 12:05 am

      Thank you. 😊

      Like

  18. December 8, 2020 at 12:36 am

    Comeuppance is a nice word. Lucy still works hard 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  19. December 8, 2020 at 12:43 am

    Welcome!

    Liked by 2 people

  20. December 8, 2020 at 2:56 am

    Great post!😁💖

    Liked by 1 person

  21. December 8, 2020 at 4:08 am

    I plan to stay here on the earth as a ghost, not to see what happens after I’m gone, but to keep watch over my loved ones. Sadly, I have forgotten a lot of what I have written over the past six years, and often go back to look for a poem or a story to rework, and I don’t recognise them! I love the second paragraph about the lovelorn tree and the ‘fossils and skull-caps of the ocean’. I have never dreamt about digging up someone else’s or even my own bones, but I do remember my emotions being so numb I needed to hurt myself just to feel something. A brooding piece, Lucy.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 8, 2020 at 1:58 pm

      Thank you, Kim. I’m sorry to hear that you’ve been through that. ❤️❤️ Hugs.

      Liked by 1 person

  22. December 8, 2020 at 7:09 am

    The elements will tell the story. But we will mingle with them. (K)

    Liked by 1 person

  23. December 8, 2020 at 8:17 am

    Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.

    Liked by 2 people

  24. December 8, 2020 at 9:48 am

    This is very deep made me think.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 8, 2020 at 1:55 pm

      Thank you! I’m really happy to hear that.

      Like

  25. December 8, 2020 at 10:37 pm

    How awful to need to inflict pain just to feel something. This was very dark and disturbing (and brilliantly written)

    Liked by 2 people

    • December 8, 2020 at 11:02 pm

      Thank you so much, Dale. I’m glad you can see how I intended it. I feel so bad for those who go through and experience that.

      Liked by 1 person

      • December 8, 2020 at 11:03 pm

        Yes. Heartbreaking stuff.

        Liked by 1 person

  26. December 9, 2020 at 6:09 pm

    Beautiful, transcendent verse that takes one to a more ethereal plane.

    Liked by 1 person

    • December 9, 2020 at 6:15 pm

      Thank you so much, Phil. 🙂

      Like

  27. December 12, 2020 at 8:12 pm

    Beautifully written, Lucy. A thorn in the side lets you know you can feel.

    Liked by 2 people

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