Here again, I find myself
Going back to what I know
Back to the undesired pain
Which you afflict upon me
My wrist screams to leave this
Yet my body won’t leave you
You’re the only thing
That makes me whole
Yet brings me down
With every strike of your hand
With every word you speak
I fall upon my knees
The motion of my heart completes
Then seizes up inside
It cannot take this any longer
Unmendable it as become
Torn apart, snitched up
Congested with stitches
No longer is there room
Yet here again I find myself
Wrapped in your arms
Holding you tight
My wrists frozen in place
Waiting for the next time
here again
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yah toe ....
the suicide or leaaving was the point... its which ever way out you would feel best would fit yourself as u read
the suicide or leaaving was the point... its which ever way out you would feel best would fit yourself as u read
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I liked some aspects of this, the theme you're dealing with is sensitively and well observed I think. But it's useful to ask yourself what is the difference between poetry and prose. If one looks at this poem the answer would be that lines are chopped at arbitrary points, and that's it. For a poem to work it's not enough that it be a straightforward telling of a series of emotions and situations, if it were then poetry and narrative would be identical except for page layout. Really you need to show these emotions rather than tell them, by which I mean employ the various techniques that poetry as an art form has to offer, rhythm, phonemic patterning(rhyme and alliteration etc), images, metaphor and simile to induce your reader to empathise with you, to feel those emotions, rather than just sympathise, recognize the sadness or happiness of what you're telling. Some attention to punctuation might help as well.
You have a typo in this line 'Unmendable it as become'.
Don't let anything I say discourage you, poetry is of course subjective.
You have a typo in this line 'Unmendable it as become'.
Don't let anything I say discourage you, poetry is of course subjective.
Hi,
I find readings like this somehow relate to ones-self and that because of
this one tends to show anger and heartbreak/desperation/a way out, as if telling a story or unspoken words, like a diary but it is a normal part of some peoples lifes and unfortunatly, have to live their lifes around this kind of thing.
I think it is a powerful documentation of some persons life and very sad, as the heart can still be in love and hate at the same time and often someone will stay in a relationship for reasons of security and think they are in love when it's down maybe to fear.
And in a heart lays a shard of ice or glass that has torn it to shreds, from all the hurt.
AC
I find readings like this somehow relate to ones-self and that because of
this one tends to show anger and heartbreak/desperation/a way out, as if telling a story or unspoken words, like a diary but it is a normal part of some peoples lifes and unfortunatly, have to live their lifes around this kind of thing.
I think it is a powerful documentation of some persons life and very sad, as the heart can still be in love and hate at the same time and often someone will stay in a relationship for reasons of security and think they are in love when it's down maybe to fear.
And in a heart lays a shard of ice or glass that has torn it to shreds, from all the hurt.
AC