It's not fair that Yao is the only one who gets to repent for the past in a poem, isn't it? Which makes this poem somewhat of a sequel to "When I Was Your Man".
2p!Japan/China yo!
A Spoilt Child
It was never your fault. Just as it was never mine.
Spliced skies and tattered parasol.
•
A viridian plume of loneliness
Swallows me whole,
So that my crimson gaze shan't glimpse anything
Before
Or behind
Or above me.
A syncopation to this ethereal kingdom
Where I am blind.
•
Drenched.
Drenched and shivering in my
Sodden summer robes.
Drenched and
Too proud
To admit it.
•
Too proud to stagger home
With my tail between my feet,
To tell you that
You
Had been right all along,
When you prophesized that
The Heavens
Shall weep tears today.
•
"But I want to go."
•
You stared at me from our bed.
Something like condescension;
Something like paternal grace
Limpid in frivolous eyes.
I hated it when you did that.
•
Because no matter how I made it to be,
You
Will always be taller than me.
You
Will always see further than I will.
You
Will always know more than I ever will.
•
"The Heavens
Shall weep tears today."
•
"But even deities can lie."
I unfurled my parasol stubbornly.
Aging wood and swallow's songs;
With the scent of the nosegay,
It smelled heavenly of home.
•
"The Heavens
Shall weep tears today",
Yao drawled with a monotony
Which peeved me to no end.
"Come back here with me.
Come back
While the storm
Is still evadable."
•
"You can't tell me what to do!"
No one can.
Not even Yao.
Not even you.
•
Yao closed his eyes and yawned,
Then drawled under his breath:
"If you insist."
•
I'd pulled a face and flounced away.
•
And look where I am now.
•
Drenched and blind, Yao!
I'm telling you,
I'm drenched and blind and I want to go home,
But I can't!
I can't
Because I know you'll be there.
Your
Presence alone shall scoff:
"Didn't I tell you Kiku?
Didn't I tell you it would rain today?"
•
And I'm not failing myself to that.
Even if I have to shiver and drench
In this summer storm;
Even if I have to bow
To Heaven's aquatic armada,
I'll never let you win!
•
… But what is this?
•
The rain-swept boulevard
Loomed into view;
Smidgens of colour imposed
By the wildflowers
Seasoning draft and soil.
The armada had retreated.
•
Like a deity had
Clawed a hole into the sky;
My relief against the viridian plume.
•
That hole
Being a parasol.
That relief
Being the warmth of a carmine chen shan.
Swaddling my quivering shoulders like
The embrace of a lover.
•
That deity being
Wang Yao,
Who coaxed me to my feet and
Grinning,
Murmured to me:
•
"Even the deities can lie,
So
It's a good thing we're together."
•
But as you carried me into autumn,
And the
Viridian plume overhead
Burst
Into livid leaves of amber,
I wriggled
Out
Of your arms;
Out
Of your baggy chen shan,
And ran ahead of you.
•
If just to pretend that
I can be ahead for once.
If just to pretend that
I'm capable alone.
•
It's your fault that I'm this pathetic.
"Kiku, put the jacket on."
•
"No."
•
"Kiku, you're bound to catch something
If you don't put that jacket on."
•
"No."
•
"Kiku,
Don't you think
I
Know what's best for you?"
•
Pale cheeks,
Bee-stung lips and
Blue fingers.
Bones rattling furtively
As I
Snuggled closer to the frosty hibernal ether.
An autumn kimono
Failed justice
To the frigidness of winter.
•
But was I ever going to learn to let you have your way?
•
"You're not my mikado",
I sniffed.
•
"Then let me be today! In the fact that
I just want what's
Best
For you, Kiku",
You insisted.
•
"I think
I
Know what's best for
Myself",
I'd argued.
•
Ignoring your icy glare,
I
Shoved further off of the porch,
If just to deport a façade of rebellion.
I lobbed my jacket
At your feet.
•
And Yao
Just stared at it blankly.
•
Before, to
My silent horrification,
You slipped your own off of your
Broad shoulders.
•
The frigidness of winter
Did no justice
To bones three thousand years old.
You shivered violently
As your blue fingers
Offered the jacket to me.
•
"If you don't want yours",
Your teeth clattered,
"Then
At least take mine."
•
But did I take it?
Or did I decline and
Snuffed you back within it?
•
I just played the cruel sitting duck
And glared at the garment;
Pocked holes in the faded red
With slits for daggers.
I glared at your solemn expression.
•
It's your fault.
It's your fault I'm feeling the way I am now.
Ravished
By the tendrils of guilt,
And enticed
By your valor unending.
It's your fault
You don't ever play fair!
•
With a snarl,
I slapped your hands away
And
Took to the blizzard.
The rapier of the hibernal gust
Howled and yanked at my skin,
Drowning
Your cries.
•
And the wildflowers that seeped from
The underground slush.
They were trampled in my fury;
So furious was I that
I never realized
I had ran into spring.
The icy serviceman of winter,
Or the fervour of damsel spring?
The viridian plume of summer's mikado,
Or the ire of autumn's envoy ablaze?
•
Degrading morale and
The rancid stench
Of blood and decay.
From the churning Burgundian mist,
Bullets and arrows
Rained down to puncture the crippled earth.
Somewhere in the
Emaciated skeleton of the city,
A child howled for her mother.
•
What sort of season was this?
•
"CALL IT OFF, KIKU!"
Crimson eyes scanned
The man
Kneeling before me.
•
Was that really you,
Wang Yao?
•
What happened to
The frivolous Middle Kingdom
Who always loomed taller than me?
The roots of your fingers are caked in blood.
Hair, unkempt and greasy,
Hung limp to your blemished chest.
Your skin piebald;
Your clothes tattered and filthy.
•
A tail or red
Leaked down your breeches.
•
"Call it off!"
You wailed like a feral beast.
•
It hurts, doesn't it?
•
"You know this is all your fault,
Right?"
•
"Y-yes",
You lied.
"I-it's all my…"
•
"LIES!"
I dodged a
Swipe of your hands.
•
"Call it off!"
You begged again.
Before I could leave, you grabbed my legs.
•
And the frivolous Middle Kingdom
Began to weep at my feet.
Kissing my shoes and
Bashing
His forehead against the ground.
•
"Call it off Kiku!
YOU WIN! YOU WIN!"
You howled.
"JUST CALL IT OFF!...
If not for me,
Do it for the sake of my children.
Their parents are dead
And their homes burned to the ground.
They have nothing left but trauma
And crimson skies to lull them goodnight.
•
"Spare them",
You kowtowed,
"and leave their spirits undisturbed in sleep."
•
Yao kept his head bowed,
So that
He did not see
The flare in my crimson eyes.
How my lips
Twitched and quivered
With a devilish hatred for you;
For your children;
For the bludgeoned ghosts of their parents!
•
"You're challenging my authority, Yao!"
I screamed.
•
You did nothing in response.
•
"You're mean and you're horrible!"
•
No response.
•
"I HATE YOU!
IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!
THIS
IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
•
And as I kicked you away,
You fell
Limply
Against the punctured ground.
Eyed closed.
Lips chapped and bleeding.
•
Unmoving.
•
Unbreathing.
•
"…Yao?"
I sank to my knees.
"Yao?
D-don't scare me.
You're only trying to scare me,
Aren't you?"
I rested his head on my lap.
•
And still you didn't move.
•
I shook you!
Slapped you!
Screamed your name like a dying prayer to the entity of the filthy skies!
Why
Are you doing this to me?
It's not fair!
It's not fair!
•
"WAKE UP, YAO! WAKE UP!"
The tears that I've
Always been too proud
To shed
Splattered against your
Sorry face.
"WAKE UP!
I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT,
YAO!
•
"YAO!"
•
Panting,
I allowed my gaze to
Falter
At nothing.
I'd ended you,
But
You
Have ended something larger in me,
By blubbering in the face of a scrap of metal.
•
A scrap of metal!
If I had known you were
This
Fallible…
•
"This is all your fault."
The battle cries of
Shadow-plated men
Thundered
Amidst the churning red mist.
•
"… It's all your fault that
I
Love you too much
To let your life to waste."
Spring, summer, fall and winter.
Winter, spring, summer and fall.
The damsel, the envoy, the serviceman and the fall.
The serviceman, the damsel, the envoy and the fall.
•
The seasons
Continued to
Blossom and wither beyond the window.
How selfish…
And now it is winter again.
•
I sat with my back to the wall.
The blood had long dried
In these eyes,
Caking into
The colour of flayed skin,
And dead
To any slivers of happiness in this filthy world.
•
I quivered in a
Worn jacket.
My breath misted before me,
Ghosting away
Before I can reach a finger to touch.
•
The distant squeals of children
Mocked me.
•
What did I look like now?
Do I look like
I'm waiting for you
Do I look like
I'm dying without you?
Like
I need you?
Like you're really coming back?
•
"Cold."
I clutched the coat tighter.
"So… So cold."
•
You couldn't be cold.
You
Were never cold; always warm.
Always warm
From your head to your slippers.
Warm in the arms and warm on the lips.
I've missed your warmth.
•
And suddenly, I began to cry.
•
And still you kept coming.
Fragments of you
misting in places:
Frivolous eyes
And a handsome smile,
Warmer than any jacket can ever be.
•
I've missed you!
I've missed you so!
•
I've missed you
Ever since I left you in
That infirmary.
•
I've missed you since
I blundered from home,
Never to come back.
Never to see
How you've shriveled up without love.
•
I'll kill me by
Admitting
That it was never your fault.
It was never
Your
Fault that I'm crazy for you.
It was never
Your
Fault that I'm bleeding for you now,
And it was never
Your
Fault that I loved you so much that
I
Wanted to kill you.
•
It's always been me.
•
I'm
The one who drank the nightshade for
You.
That scrap of metal was
Mine.
•
And that love
Was mine to clutch to my chest.
Clutched so tightly it burned.
•
I'm a spoilt child.
And that's all
I'll ever be now.
•
It's my fault.
And it's because of me that you're never coming home.
•
I blinked my eyes wearily, as
Tears of vermillion
Seeped down my cheeks.
•
Falling
To stain the flaccid snow at my feet.
Back through two thousand
Spinning seasons;
Is this the same
Wang Yao
Who had died in my arms?
•
Your smile a
Healthy shade of gold.
I'm happy to see you
Glow
Amidst the viridian plume,
Sharing a parasol
With
A new one.
•
He's better than I ever was.
•
His eyes a soft doe;
His heart like soft dawn.
He never yells at you, and he
Never
Wants to pick a fight.
You are
Flawless
In his eyes.
•
And for that,
I am happy for you.
•
Even if I have to let go of you now.
Even if I am now just
A fleeting mirage
To you;
Scattered ripples in the
Puddles
Littering your slippers.
•
Slinging your arm over his shoulder,
You and the
New one
Vanish into the viridian plume.
And the leaves overhead
Burst
Into livid leaves of amber.
•
I suppose we both know who this fall belongs to.
•
But you leave me for better things Yao.
Leave me for things
That won't kill you.
Leave what had rotted and spoilt.
You
Deserve better anyway.
•
And always know that
I'm happy for you.
These crimson eyes that have flayed and decayed with the rain.
BEFORE ANYONE MENTIONS IT TO ME!... Yes, I'm aware that "unbreathing" is not a real word in the dictionary. "Melrose" isn't a word either, but the poem wanted to keep both really badly, and I am prone to spoiling my poems. If you've ever seen a poem's puppy-dog eyes, you'll sympathize in an instant.
As a ChuNi shipper, I have developed this funny obsession that I'm entitled to treating both Yao and Kiku equally. If I lavish love upon one, I must lavish love upon the other one shortly after. If I diss one in a piece, I won't shrug it off until I've dissed the other one either. Similarly, if Yao and Kiku end up in real-life conflicts, it's both their faults and no one's fault at the same time.
Oh, bludgeon it. I think I'm seriously obsessed with Sino-Japan now.
By the way, "Aiyaa Five Hundred Years" is seriously working it in the views section of this story ever since it was uploaded yesterday! Are you guys having fun with that little schnoodle? :D In that case, I'm definitely writing another parody in the near future.
-Plumeria-hi