Cloud Nine

Butterflies dance on the tips of her fingers,
where teardrops of paint dry. She is
throwing away those memories,
forgotten like that promise from
two years back
or the can of flat Diet Coke
that sits patiently in the back of her fridge.

Her mind has blanked,
a thousand paper cranes overlapping
the fear and anger and unsettling thoughts,
exiling them to cyberspace or weaving them
into blankets of nothing.

A smile has broken onto her face,
and she feels like running a marathon
or soaring into the sun,
fearless
because she knows she won't burn.

~*~

This one needs some work but I like it. Reviews are appreciated!

Wow, I really enjoyed this poem. It's powerful and interesting. The images you've painted are quite vivid and in all honesty I can't find a thing wrong with it. Which, of course, is a good thing. I liked the emphasis on "fearless" - it made the word mean more, if that makes sense. Overall, very well done, to the point that I can't even pick out a favorite line, it's all good. Keep writing!

The imagery and word diction you used were very powerful and unique. It really added to this poem. I couldn't find any apparent errors or corrections, so I'm not going to be much help, but that's a plus since it means this was well-written! So congrats on that (;
My only suggestion is that maybe you could add more to the actual story/ idea of the poem, because that wasn't as clear-cut to me. Unless it wasn't supposed to be about anything very specific.
Another than that great work! You have a very unique and mature writing style (:

Thanks for the reviews!

Hey there, Jas. This was a pretty different kind of poem. Not sure I've ever read anything really like it. There was something about it that seemed a little scattered to me. I had to read it over to figure out your point or message. What I got was that the speaker was letting go of memories and herself and drifting off? Something along the lines. Is that right?

Well, anyway, I think it would have been nicer to read this with a little more flow and ease. Some words and lines came off a bit choppy to me. A few lines I didn't understand were here:

Butterflies dance on the tips of her fingers,
where teardrops of paint dry. She is
throwing away those memories,

Maybe these lines have something more personal behind them that I just don't quite get. It was the whole where teardrops of paint dry thing that ruined it for me. I like the first line though. When I read that I imagine a ethereal type feeling.

I also liked the flow of the second stanza. It went on without a pause and kept its beat until the end. Your whole poem might have even sounded great written in that way. But that's simply my own opinion. But having that as your middle stanza was great.

Overall though, I think this was nice, but could probably also use some more work. I would really like to see more of that ethereal imagery being used like in the line of the first stanza. Your poem is titled Cloud Nine after all.