Young Writers Society

Hi, nycto. I'm Lumi; let's jam.

I can appreciate any minimalist poet, and what you've delivered here is of an odd quality that isn't seen much on YWS. It's a forward narrative with an ambiguous twin of a different name. I like that. I like complexity and the gift to the reader of maybe this, maybe this other--and it generally just settles well with me. That said, let's dissect this.

So basically anything to be understood about this piece is one layer beneath a very rigid metaphor of spray cans. That can be a throwback, a personal salute to the relationship that has ended here, possibly a reference to joint creation, the romance or tryst between two creators, even possibly a drug misdirect. I like the personal metaphor that ties this down to a past relationship because you can dilate the narrative into

when we ended illustrating our bodies...i allowed existence to greet me

a throw to the melancholy, resonating silence of isolation. It doesn't make a big deal of itself, but when contrasted with the alternative silence of even having a person with you, even if that person/you are unhappy, it stings a bit worse than non-contrasted silence. The unkempt nature furthers this, and it's just generally good layering.

you deceived me...as warm as you

A two-edged fragment that both implies the longing of missing warmth and the ironic coldness that seems to fill in the gaps after a relationship ends. I like it both ways. Sorry if your author's intention is being assaulted (though author's intention doesn't matter in published poetry).

I'm not a fan of the phrasing of morning's morning. It tries to curl in on itself; it tries to be meta. It's an unnecessary curve, but you can better utilize the space, I think. Toss a missing note in here that could possibly give a tiny nod towards the preferred interpretation. By no means do I want you to lose your delicious subtlety, but a one-word road map never hurt anyone.

The last three lines are really the premise for understanding and analyzing the concept and emotion of this piece, and they're very well-done. Rusted implies the time elapsed, the lack of furniture confirms the destructive end of the relationship/cohabitation, and the literal mess really just feels like it wants to be literal. There's a lingering sentiment in the desire to conclude the mess that could branch into either a longing to forget the past relationship, or the potential longing to just stop being a mess by either cleaning up or plastering your brains on the wall. But eh, reader interpretation.

You're good at what you do. If my analysis seems off, then assess your directions, and I'll assess my dissection.