Poetry Performance Piece: Hakuouki -Oni Dreams-

Here’s that piece I mentioned in the most recent podcast. You know how some poetry is spoken word? Well…this one is, so much so to the point that I actually recorded it and braved the terror of that. Cause, you know, I’m a goob.

In all seriousness, though the words are included below but for the truest effect, I’d prefer it if you’d close your eyes and just listen.

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(I might not have the voice for this, but at least I know how it’s delivery should go…)

(Also, the beginning might be cringy in delivery. I messed up a word (aching). If it is cringy, I apologize. Had to get into it to be less nervous, it gets better, I promise.)

(Still nervous now that it’s done, though.)

(Hazelyn, I’m putting it out there and now I’m way more nervous than I was, hehe. )

(Can you tell?)

(If anyone who sees this hates it, please just ignore it.)

(If you hate it and are in a bad mood, please don’t tear me into little bitty shreds. You can just pretend it never happened, right?)

(Man, this was wayyyy~~~ less never wracking when I had like 2 followers that I’d never spoken to, lol.)

(Do you think that if I change the POV to 1st person, I could find some Andrew Love-sounding, deep voiced man to deliver it? GAH. DO YOU, READER, HAPPEN TO HAVE AN ANDREW-LOVE-ESQUE VOICE? DO YOU WANT TO READ A POEM AND MAKE FANGIRLS SWOON?)

(I really, truly think that this poem could be swoon-y if properly read in Andrew Love’s voice.)

(Should I tweet at him? Is that rude? Should I tweet at him? I am like such a fan. Think he’d do it? Think he’d ignore it? He seems like an “I like interacting with fans” kind of guy. I’m going to Tweet at him. Gah. His voice reading this would just make my whole year. My gosh. ❤ Is there a place to send him fan mail? I want to send him a letter anyway. And I could ask him then. I could write a whole post asking him to do this and send him a Twitter message… )

(*shakes self* Done rambling now. Sorry for fangirling. (*/_＼) )

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-Hakuouki: Oni Dreams-

In the night-every night-he can feel it.

Pulsing.

Burning.

Aching.

Closing his eyes, he holds his breath. He waits. The images come.

These sored dreams are, for all their perversion, everything he cares to remember. And yet, he fights to forget.

The sensation, reminiscent of the quench of most painful desire, different still-more raw even than…more base, and combined with her…

…her presence, her scent, her small sighs-sounds she though he wouldn’t notice underneath the hitching breath and trembling fingers…

“H-hijikata-san…”

Lips on taunt skin.

“…Don’t you dare turn around.”

He opens his eyes.

He raises his arms above his head.

In a western bed, his hands are shaking.

His throat burns.

It isn’t an unbearable pain. It is a lust.

But this… this isn’t something he asked of her. And now she’s safe, far from danger comprised of heat and war.

His guilt…misplaced?… devours him in waking hours, his own desire as he tries to sleep in a humans’ world.

He is a monster now, but anything that must be done to protect the Shinsingumi…

…no, to protect his lady…

…ideals embodied by a way of life and a young woman’s smile…

…are well worth it in the end, even if that end is

death.