Dark Willow Remembers

Everything was so simple back then:
mean kids, homework, the giddy joy I took
in my own mind, and the sweet laughing look
he'd throw my way, my love for him. But when
You came to me in fashionable shoes
and perfect skin, a kind and smiling stranger,
The New Girl, bringing unimagined danger,
how could I know all that I stood to lose?
And who might I have been if you had not
asked me for help that day? Would I have known
my girl, or lost her? Would I, all alone,
Have let my power ripen and then rot?
Who could I become, if not dark willow?
Who would I have been, outside your shadow?


Willow, to Rack

You called me Strawberry when we first met--
That first time Amy brought me here and I
offered to pay you, trembled as your eyes
roved over me--but I was so beset
by need for what you had I let you take
a taste, a little tour, that was the deal,
the sordid price to spin on your pinwheel
of magic for a time, and soothe the ache.
Remember how I tasted? Try me now.
Dark gods, the fruit is rotting on the vine
A taste, a tour, I'll drink you up like wine,
I'll drain you and all mercy disavow.
This juice is bitter, boiling, black with grief
and even dead you offer no relief.


Willow, much later

How crackling, wild and rich it felt at first--
that Magic, deep and stormy as the seas
filling the need not even love could ease,
and later, how it seemed to be a curse.
I thought my awful power had run its course--
from hospital, when I called back his soul
and something called me too, until my role
as terrible, dark world-ending force.
Black Magic ate me up and spat me out
still Willow, broken, changed and yet the same
And still holding this dangerous, bright flame
along a road that's wreathed with fear and doubt.
These varied Magicks do, I plainly see,
run deeper than the dark, and deep through me.


Zoe, to Niska

Little man, what is this shit you're trying to pull?
You don't know love. Give me my husband then,
dearest by far to me among all men
and keep my Captain. True, my heart is full
of many loves and loyalties, but this,
your foolish, would-be devastating game
gives me no pause, and so I say again
give me the weaker one, my love, my bliss.
So now you try to up the stakes once more:
You carve me off my Captain's ear to take
and I will take it, he's not one to break
and nor am I; we know this from the war.
Fool, I'll take my man and this ear too,
And I'll be back to claim some piece of you.


Zoe, to Wash



Look: black space can sometimes make you think

that life and self are small and powerless

and we are living eye-to-eye with death

floating at the edge of nothing; blink

and it's all gone, I know this better now

than when I spent my days on solid ground

but living on Serenity I've found

the space, the strength, the passion to allow

myself to hope. Now, I've got no desire

to count the men I've killed, but I can make

something more than death, and it will take

more courage than to stare at death requires.

More than daring rebel, I'd be wife

and with our love, my love, we can make life.


Angel



Your fingers are the best thing I have tasted,

the flush upon your honey skin brings back

a stirring life to my dead flesh--hijacked

and drawn off-course, the years I've wasted

I leave behind me now, and make my home

between your lips, between your thighs. So wild

the wonder in your eyes, as you, beguiled

and heat-struck, uncontrolled let fly a moan

that shakes me to the core; and when you arc

back on the bed, the rumpled crimson sheet

slipping beneath you, passion soon complete

engenders that first unexpected spark.

And when your cry of joy conquers my death,

my soul slips out of me as soft as breath.




Angel II



I'm lying--there was nothing soft in it:

my soul yanked from me like a plug, and all

my self swirling behind it as you sprawl

back on the bed, laughing and crying, lit

with joy--too dazed and dazzled still to see

the change waiting behind my darkened eyes,

the weight of conscience lifting as your sighs

grow faint and sleep draws you away from me.

Some irony the moment still postpones--

me lying at your side like in the grave

but soon I will be sure of what I crave:

to see your loving eyes as dead as stones.

It was your pleasure, love, that shook this soul from me

and ever will Angelus your creation be.





Anyanka becomes a girl



A thousand years I've lived, and here I am

back in highschool. Funny? I think not--

a simple wish, a quickie, so I thought,

has made me into my own friggin' sham:

a hot teenager in this shitty town

that perches, perky, on the mouth of hell

and Vengeance help me, wish that I could tell

why I can't stop thinking of that clown--

What has he got that isn't just the same

as every other goon that's earned my wrath

and ended in a tailor-made bloodbath?

Whatever--it's the new me, unashamed:

I'll give up retribution's sweet maelstrom

If only he'll invite me to the prom.


Anya, dying



The time that I decided not to run

because you wouldn't--that was when I knew

that I would come to rack and ruin for you

and rue the choice, when all was said and done.
Then followed love and tons of sex, and I
believed in us and worshipped all your bits,
Cohabitation and apocalypse
averted--perfect bliss with my sweet guy.
But utter devastation followed fast:
my powers gained and lost, then I became
Mrs. Anya Lame-Ass-Made-up-Maiden-Name
Harris--almost--falling towards the past.
That swift sword notwithstanding, still I say
that you were worth it, are worth it today.





Joyce

It's not the story that I had in mind.
I thought that it was just a mother's pride
that made her seem, to me, so far outside
the ordinary. Saving humankind
from vampires--well, not what one would expect,
though not the first time that I lost the plot:
Divorced, a single mom, these things were not
high on my list of hopeful dreams--Subject
to all the twists and turns of fate I tried
to raise my daughter to be strong and kind.
But fate outdid me there; I was assigned
the role of hero's mom, and stood aside.
Something tries to kill my child each night
and this my sacrifice: to let her fight.


Giles

The look you gave me! As if I'd proposed
we dine on rotted pygmies on the moon--
then you turned tail and ran out of the room--
I thought you must not be who I'd supposed.
It was a rocky start, but now I smile
to think of it--how young you were that day!
So powerful, and also so blase
about that power. It took a little while
to cost you dear. The universe upends
its bag of sordid tricks, and then one night
it's over--you come plunging through the light--
This is how every watcher's duty ends.
My slayer's body lying at my feet
should I say now, my mission is complete?


Ben / Glory

I just wanted to have a normal life,
a body that belonged to me alone
not shared with some demonic god who's prone
to violence, and takes joy in all the strife...
I just wanted to rule with pain and fire
and punish randomly when I got bored,
to be feared deeply, worshipped and adored
fulfilling every whim and each desire.
...she causes me. She's cost me everything,
all of my dreams, I wake up in a dress
all over town. There's no way to suppress
her when she's hungry; now she's wondering...
how long you're going to blab--it's such a pain
and makes me peckish. Let's go find a brain.


Dawn Speaks out at the Singalong

Try to remember how it felt to be
a kid in high school--it sucked, right? I mean
who's selfless and mature at age fifteen?
And then try to imagine: Suddenly
you find out in those harsh, hormonal years
that you aren't human. You aren't even real.
You are a toy for some bitch-god--you'd feel
all messed up too, and when you dry your tears
and try to deal, your mother dies, and all
your memories of her are false. What then?
Your sister dies to save the world (again)
and it's your fault--for you she took the fall.
So pardon me for whining. Why don't you
Shut up yourselves 'til you've been through it too.


Slayer's Sister

Around the time I knew monsters existed
and were lurking in the dark, I knew as well
she could protect me from them and repel
the worst that hell could spew. Though I resisted
the lame-ass role of damsel in distress,
I was always being rescued from some fiend
or other. How I worshipped her, and dreamed
of being like her. So I might confess
that in some way it soothed my jealous heart,
for just a moment, to be told that I
was not the girl I thought, not weak or shy
but made to pull the universe apart.
For one short moment I was glad, it's true
to know I had some power in me too.


Simon

She always was a wonder. Now her mind
is plundered, shaken loose, but she is still
my sister and herself--if I've the skill
to heal her I'll undo their foul design.
My life and fortune never were, to me,
of such importance--these things fall away
and leave me Brother. River's swift ballet
of foot and mind and spirit--this will be
My purpose now--to save her, make her well;
the rest is moot. I've stolen her away
and thrown myself on hope, no time to say
to who I was and all I had: farewell.
And when at last I sleep, in darkest space
I see her dancing, smile upon her face.


River Fixes the Bible

One goes into the house of eleven
eleven times and always comes out one.
Heaven is up from what? It comes undone,
spun here on the heart but wrongly written,
word is bound but for what purpose is it
lit with lies and faults--I'll not be lured
fit to the spit, to brokenness inured,
secured for what, this part I will unknit.
Write the truth upon the page, forever
sever this tale of the ark, wrong--I might
never right these errors, but if I bite
white light my mind can change the weather.
See, the flaw is imperfection, I can't
grant reprieve, it isn't up to me


Faith's Choice

No joke: I think I wanted to be you
or anyone but me, and there you were
all golden-quick and righteous and so sure
you were the One, and I believed it too--
Who would doubt it? So I waited just outside
your shining circle, to be invited in,
to be embraced by you, like I could win
your love by doing right; Now I deride
that sad-sack puppy hoping. Also it
was not the fastest way to your bright heart.
Never the best friend, still there was a part
for me to play: not you, your opposite.
So hate me all you want, because it's clear
It is your enemies you hold most dear.


"Bad Girls"

What is this power for, if not to use?
We save the world, kicking ass, and what,
we don't get to have fun? Don't give me "but"
or "wait" or "think it through," 'cause I refuse
to wallow in the burden of my power--
this is a fucking gift, to be enjoyed
and every single demon we've destroyed
earns us some points--so don't give me that sour
look of yours. Girlfriend, I'm telling you
I look around and see a world in flames.
We do our part, and there should be no shame
in being what we are, the Chosen Two.
We're built to kill, B, and by my radar
you're going nowhere if it's not too far.


Faith, to Angel

Of course you were the only one who could
forgive me or believe that I could change;
In retrospect it doesn't seem so strange
that only your unbeating heart withstood
the harm that I dealt out to all who tried
to reach me. Only you could claim to be
familiar with the dark I dwelt in, see
that there was still another girl inside
who wanted some way back from the abyss
she had sought out, burning the ground behind.
You helped me take the first step, redefined
the fight. All of my gratitude for this:
I begged you once to kill me, and instead
you took me home and tucked me into bed.


Faith returns to Sunnydale

You knocked me down at first, but to be fair
I was chasing the wrong guy--easy mistake
and there you were, unchanged and bright with hate,
the same old Buffy. Look, I was aware
you didn't want my help, but evil times
and yada yada, I would rather be
in jail, somewhere I wouldn't have to see
reflected in your stony gaze my crimes.
Outside the Bronze you threw a punch again
like you were tempting me to hit you back,
show you that same old Faith. I'll take the flack,
it's why I'm here, half of my dual aim:
scared shitless of my Sunnydale reprise,
to save the world and look you in the eyes.


Faith to Mayor Wilkins, much later

I have these crazy, messed up dreams sometimes
where you're still here, not evil, just around
chatting away--it's nothing so profound--
I guess I miss you, and it feels lifetimes
since someone had my back. That's not to say
I don't regret the choices that I made,
the wrongs I'll never right, the way I played
with darkness like a toy--but born to slay
means fight is in you deep, and to survive
takes help: you were the wrong guy for a role
that had no other applicants, and so
I figured, what the fuck, it's five-by-five.
And no matter what they say, it still holds true:
The only one that ever loved me was you.


Mission's Boyfriend

The rules were simple out where I come from
And things came easy to me: I was strong,
athletic, smart, and I knew right from wrong
as clear as day from night. I took it calm
When I found out that demons walked the earth--
I knew that I could help, that I could be
the hero people needed; I agreed
to join up right away. I'd prove my worth
by fighting evil. Then you stole my heart,
gorgeous and sweet and strange, the Chosen One
outmatching me in every way, you'd pun
while you kicked ass. I don't know where to start
on how you rocked my world with your wild way,
your vivid colors and your shades of grey.


Wesley to Illyria

I cannot look; I cannot look away
So like her and so unlike, and those eyes
not hers, are hers--her hands, her thighs
are yours, and close to me you stay
as if you know me. Darling, what is worse--
I have to grant this is, when I reflect,
the kind of irony I should expect
from such a cruel and twisted universe.
The shock of recognition grows no less--
I'll not forget her shape is but your host,
Immortal fiend and, too, my darling ghost,
I'll not forget you are her murderess.
Her voice an undertone of yours--but no:
Out of my sight and leave me be; don't go


Illyria Speaks

The world is smaller than it used to be
when the Old Ones walked upon it; now bestrewn
with tiny weaklings thriving and wholly
oblivious to our Age. I'm marooned,
my temple dust, my armies gone, and all
I know is dead. Even the dusty air
is foul to me. How he should have the gall
to long for her whose feeble form I wear
I cannot think, and yet I find this shell
whispers to me as well, and clouds my mind
Her worthless life and love in every cell
that I inhabit: Thus am I confined.
And so ghost-like I follow in his wake,
and offer up her image for his sake.


Chosen

The first time... I can't describe how it felt.
Someone pulling back the curtain to show
a second world, and everything you know
is useless here and false, but you've been dealt
a second hand of cards, both win and lose
are in your hand, a destiny and power
you never dreamed, and in the evening glower
this gift of strength a tool for you to use.
Now these two worlds and selves of mine must live
as close as shadow lives to that which casts
its dark onto the light, and never asks
for freedom. Doubled, halved, my pulse I'll give.
Killing has its beauty and its ugliness.
I am more than what I thought, and also less.