i have always been standing in your doorway

Debated back and forth for a while whether I wanted to format this one more to highlight the breaks between one speaker and the next: I settled on this version since I liked the seamless look better, but for the sake of clarity (and at the risk of affecting interpretation), this is the version where the contributions of the three figures are more distinct.

no, you can't skip that one. get back in your seats. you missed a turn. i missed out on my best years. well, i wish you'd missed that deer. you think it had family? i forget that i do. don't you dare touch those headlights. don't you tell me what to do. the deer can't do it, so someone has to. hey, who wrote this song again? you heathens don't even know love will tear us apart, do you? oh, i've known that for a while. you know, i think it was brave, to stand there and wait for the light to find it. i wish i still wanted light like that. i wish you'd both shut up, joy division is on. oh, of course it's joy division. i think if we loved you any less, you wouldn't be this torn up. yeah, and so would everything you've touched. look, if you're mad that it's dead, just say that. you don't get it, do you? sometimes, something is just dead because you killed it. it doesn't have to be any more than that. i wish you'd stop trying to be more than that. great, now you've gone and talked over the whole song. we can start over again, if you want. no, no we can't. there's no starting over for us.

First ever stab at a contrapuntal! The idea here is that you're able to read everything on the left side of the divide top to bottom as one poem (overgrown), then same goes for the right side of the divide (outgrown), and finally the two together as one, treating that divide as merely a space between the words on either side. Not sure whether it qualifies as one, two, or three poems, but it was definitely a fun challenge.

Text versions in case the image breaks:

overgrown

i bloomed
a season early and time
spun back to reveal
a familiar face
i wish i forgot to love.
out there
where the thorns are thickest
i am aching
contorted and unrecognizable
against you.
a betrayal of the self,
or the pain of staying small? either way,
i watched my ribs become a trellis, then a cage.
you never needed to tell me
i do not fit here anymore.

outgrown

the wrong color
has taken over your eyes,
an unfamiliar expression wearing
thin on warmth.
i should be
hunting you down
and bleeding myself out:
to stain my hands into something
without daring to raise them
is the worst form of surrender
where i cannot forgive what is
a conscious choice of weakness.
i wish i could equate freedom with victory.
i haven't been keeping the score-
but i used to.

overgrown / outgrown

i bloomed the wrong color
a season early and time has taken over your eyes,
spun back to reveal an unfamiliar expression wearing
a familiar face thin on warmth.
i wish i forgot to love. i should be
out there hunting you down
where the thorns are thickest and bleeding myself out:
i am aching to stain my hands into something
contorted and unrecognizable without daring to raise them
against you. is the worst form of surrender
a betrayal of the self, where i cannot forgive what is
or the pain of staying small? either way, a conscious choice of weakness.
i watched my ribs become a trellis, then a cage. i wish i could equate freedom with victory.
you never needed to tell me i haven't been keeping the score-
i do not fit here anymore. but i used to.

This last poem is brilliant. I am blown away at how well you executed it. You have inspired me to try a contrapuntal poem too! I had to read this so many times.

a betrayal of the self, where i cannot forgive what is
or the pain of staying small? either way, a conscious choice of weakness.

The mashup of these lines, then reading them alone, is just SO GOOD. They flow so well.

@winterwolf0100 @EllieMae Thank you both!! You've also been up to some awesome stuff this week, I love each of your threads <3

Silv, I'm in awe of your thread =')
i.

after months of your mother watching the porch,
it became evident that you were not endless.

now imagine one
where i can't. i am stuck living in the latter; it is no longer yours.

The way you weave a story here is really a blessing to witness, themes of loss are beautifully depicted.

ii.

now you've gone and talked over the whole song. we can start over again, if you want. no, no we can't. there's no starting over for us.

I loved how busy this poem was, and still made perfect sense. The different speakers look like inside voices to me and the last lines really broke me <3

iii. It taught me such a fascinating new style, I've gotta try it sometime. The flow was insanely good.

iv. Thanks to you, I know what the dark paradox is now! Love how you find a way to bring your perks of passion in your poems.