#but am i ever on board with portrayals of ophelia really

[meganspoetry]

🏠?

'You may think you know my story. Many have told it. It has long passed into history, into myth.'

The Lake in Ophelia (2018)

Rosemary for remembrance. They love to remember that I remembered, but that is not the same thing as remembering me.

Ever the girl— mermaid-like, fairy-child— they draw me oft, all wide doe eyes and trailing locks, doomed to never grow up. It makes a pretty picture, a bud torn off the stem too soon, a pale primrose too delicate to survive the thorns of roses and the harsh light of the moon. You didn't think I could bear the weight of unfolding years, the knowledge that each summer is the last of its kind— but I will happily walk my thorny path, carrying the burdens of hard years and peace of mind.

The flower opens, opens, opens; the world gets brighter, brighter, brighter.

You thought the waters would consume me. You wanted the embrace to fasten itself into a grip. You wanted me swallowed and swept away and slaughtered, so the books could decorate my death with flowers, so duels could be fought and their lessons decided.

But your wish will not be granted. The pansies never stopped flowering.

for an ask game: send me a 🏡 if you want a poem about a fictional place that your blog reminds me of 💕

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