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A lovely work, but every stanza is disconnected, there's no flow. It's like trying to understand a voicemail message riddled with static, getting the main message, but you ran the ...

You have some turn-off word choices here that, if cut and replaced with something more suited and original, could improve the poem's quality tenfold. For example: black heart, unforgiving, ill, ...

A bowl of soup in the summer, completely lukewarm, smiles sickly up at me, and I swish away old reflections of you: they've grown into the bottom of my bowls ...

These days, I find myself in cotton robes, arms stuffed in straight-jacket sweaters, deodorant lining my untanned skin. The dust of my porcelain tears stains my pillow white, and I ...

Since sugar is abstained from during Lent, the character's measuring symbolizes this holding back process, the simple salivating over these pleasures. Likewise, the bleeding of the stomach is somewhat

The quality improved throughout, and by the ending, I had been moved. Thank you.

The old man breaks bark off of the tree that's stood solitary between fence posts for three months - he waters grasses that have turned a sickly green, running printless ...

it hurts to think thinking brings salty crystal drips tracing paths down my cheek and a million insecurities take over i never meant to feel this way i remember licking ...

It's a cigg, darling. Thanks for pointing out the break in rhythm, though.

Given: Love is all you need. I want to fall on you like silk tonight, folding and flowing holy water in every dented imperfection in which your true soul resides. ...

You walk in on me where I've bled all over your kitchen floor. It's watery, dripping over all the sugars that I've been measuring and weighing for the past forty ...

Soda. Complete addict. Besides, Pat? He's my relative. I think there are scientific hazards involved there.

given that there, the only consequence sloshes in beer bottles and your basement flat reeks of your loneliness. The entire poem is filled with bustle, the lonely humans surrounded by ...

I run my fingers down the wood that once formed the cross of Jesus; it lines these walls, it keeps the winter out. Shades of sepia streetlights and monochrome moonglow ...

I was completely snowbound in my house with no heat or power or anything. So we sat in front of the fire and cooked smores. I didn't see my boyfriend ...