Father time drawing pictures on my thighs

[TheYoungOne]

They dance ahead of me in silent contentment. They pretend not to notice that I’m gasping for breath, and they continue winding blue ribbon around my feet so that I can keep up with them and fake running with them. When actually I’m running behind them.

I decorated my sky with stars I made myself. If I lie on my back and stare at them for a minute or two, their colours mix into a fabulous pattern together and they are almost congruent with yours. I can pretend I'm part of the pattern. But if you look closely, the jagged points of all of your perfect, straight laced stars don’t match up with my own estoile-style six pointed ones. I just don't fit.

I waste time, dreaming and setting myself incoherent goals I cannot achieve. I’m losing the race, panting and struggling and grasping at the earth with my broken fingernails. I don’t know how they ended up so short. I certainly didn’t bite them. Will you believe me if I hide my broken teeth?

My wrists are bound in wire. Unlike leather, it cuts into my skin. Wire isn’t seductive.
I will never be seductive. Lets say the battle isn’t worth the fighting; I’ll be left in a childish slumber whilst you all sing in flawless harmony. In your perfected C major, there isn't space for an F.

Sorry, you can’t define me. I’ll let you scribble all over my ripped skin, but you can’t come any closer. That would be fatal. You see, I'm terrified of love.

Is this adolescence? Father Time drawing pictures on my thighs?

Let's pretend we love it.

I know it's a bit long but comments please

[juliadebeauvoir]

Dear Youngone,

I am sure that you understand that this is prose and not a poem, although it has many poetic aspects about it. I like the direction this takes--basically the narrator admits her/his flaws and compares them to someone significant--someone who comes off being perfect, untouched with emotion.
Does this refer to a break up or another family relationship? The drawing on the thighs was a bit cryptic. Of course being young you have no idea that when you get into your forties it actually DOES look like your thighs have been drawn on!
Why the thigh? Sexual graffiti that the lover puts there? Not sure the meaning behind it. But that said, I would use this as an outline for the real story. The story of trying to live up to expectation. Give us some characters to work with here--someone who is talking to us, the audience and not just inner ramblings. I do think you have something good here. Just take it further, stretch it a bit.

Kimberly

[ccvulture]

TYO

Julia is quite right. There is some nice poetry in this but if it were me I'd break it up a little and make some cuts to remove the more prosaic parts.

Do be reassured by one thing, though. There is a trend in poetry towards very short lines, which makes some people think that a poem can't comprise looooong lines. Do what you feel is right for this piece and for your own voice.

Here are my fave bits...

"they continue winding blue ribbon around my feet so that I can keep up with them and fake running with them"

"colours mix into a fabulous pattern together and they are almost congruent with yours"

"Will you believe me if I hide my broken teeth?"

"You see, I'm the terrified of love"

CC