Revised Version of "Letter to a Ghost"

I posted the "sloppy copy" of htis in OTHER in the MISC forum, but once I revised it, I felt it fit here better. It doesnt rhyme, I know, but alot of poetry doesnt. It is dramatic though...and so is what I wrote it for. Heres the story:

Recently, A friend I knew, and was quite close to, died.
Her boyfriend was the scariest, most manipulative, most abusive thing there was. Even though she is the "ghost" in the REAL situation, I switched it around and made him the ghost. Because even though she is no longer alive, she is more alive than he will ever be.
She was in a situation that was very dangerous, but getting out was going to cause her alot more danger than she was already dealing with.
It was the classic "abusive father/boyfriend" situation where, they hate him, but they cant stop loving him for some sick, strange reason. She never did get out, before it was too late.

(This is really hard for me...sorry if words and thoughts are jumbled)

Anyways, She used to tell me these things in secret, how scared she was for him, of him. I used my own wording, wording I knew she was too scared to say aloud (we knew eachother VERY well-finished eachothers sentences) and just...wrote. It's just kind of a grieving thing for me. Like I say, "I write, therefor I am." It helps me get through alot.

All that being said, crit away. I need the input.


Revised version:

A Letter to a Ghost

I wish I could tell you how I feel.
I cant because every time I open my mouth to speak to you, it all falls apart, tumbling out of my mouth like a silent waterfall of thoughts.
I don’t know what to say because there is nothing left.

I wish you could see the inside of me right now, but I would want to take that ability away from you immediately so you would not take advantage of what is inside my thick skin.
I wouldn’t want you to see what I see, every day, chasing me in my sleep, kissing me persuadingly on my quivering lips.
Holding my hands tight behind my head, so I can’t even struggle.

If you weren’t so busy helping everyone else, maybe you would hear my soft, almost silent whispers for security.
They just get lost in the dark, the empty wind catching them off guard and sweeping them away, never to be seen again.

Oh what has happened to all the beautiful things I once knew?
What has happened to my mind?

There is a storm going on and I can’t control the rainy weather.
The lightning strikes and I fear the thought of drowning in this confusion.

Where are you?
I am afraid to ask.
If you heard my voice from behind these walls, you would know where I was hiding.
Locked inside myself, I cry for help with tears of regret.

I want to call for you, and warn you of the thing that has been lurking behind you since we met.
It’s almost wrapped around your shoulders now, and you can’t even feel it.
You just fade away more and more, farther and farther.

I would try to tell you what its like, but you wouldn’t believe me anyways.
You would smile and laugh, just like you always do when I try to tell you my opinion.
It’s just something I’ve gotten used to.
Although, you couldn’t really call it an opinion, more like an anxiety.
And you could barely call that thing you do a smile.

It is your sneer that I’m thinking of.
That is all that is ever there, so I have convinced myself it is a smile.
Convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, you are happy with the way things are.
I hope I don’t forget my covers for such things, and get surprised by a stab in the back, or worse, through the heart.

I hate to admit things to myself...like what I am thinking now.
If you were here you would hit me, or call me a name.

I cannot believe I ever started this.
I'm telling you to go away.
I do not believe in you.
You are slowly fading away and I wish you would disappear.

You are gone and I will forget you by tomorrow.
At least I hope.

I miss you.

Hi,

Well first of all I'm very sorry about your friend and all, but might I remind you that there's no need for explaining anything the point is, that it could intrest us without all the explaining. And I must be sincere even with the explaining I didn't seem to care any less.

Other than that, I don't like the structure its very prose, and well this is supposed to be poetry. I read your earlier submission for this post and the only thing you changed were some breaks between the lines. And you use these over-the-top discriptions, no sense of originality at all especially when it comes to poetry. I'd suggest you post this as "short fiction" rather than trying to make it "long dramatic poetry"

Cheerios, Chandni

uh, thanks?

..I won't be reading that description there. Stuff like that belongs in a blog. If your poem is properly written, I should be able to relate to the situation easily enough without a full-fledged diary entry beside it.

I wish I could tell you how I feel.
[but] I can't because every time I open my mouth to speak to you, it all falls apart, tumbling out of my mouth like a silent waterfall of thoughts.

A nice elongated similie that didn't seem to aid the poem.

I don't know what to say because there is nothing left.

I wish you could see the inside of me right now, but I would want to take that ability away from you immediately so you would not take advantage of what is inside my thick skin.

Translation: "I want you to see inside of me, but if you could, I wouldn't want you to." Contridicting yourself? I'm unsure if you want to narrator to seem unstable or not.

I wouldn’t want you to see what I see, every day, chasing me in my sleep, kissing me persuadingly on my quivering lips.
Holding my hands tight behind my head, so I can’t even struggle.

If you weren’t so busy helping everyone else, maybe you would hear my soft, almost silent whispers for security.
They just get lost in the dark, the empty wind catching them off guard and sweeping them away, never to be seen again.

Wind snatching away words and thoughts is so commonly used. Perhaps you could expand on this, or change it up a bit? For example, why is this wind empty? Why is it ripping them away? Why are the thoughts in a void, windy place? Is this an example of their argumentative relationship?

Oh what has happened to all the beautiful things I once knew?
What has happened to my mind?

An off-track random outburst. Another example that perhaps the narrator is mentally unstable.

There is a storm going on and I can’t control the rainy weather.
The lightning strikes and I fear the thought of drowning in this confusion.

I've noted you have a thing for compound sentances. I suggest you try to vary your sentance structure, at least from this monotonous subject/verb set-up. On another note, I like this because you bring back the winds into this stormy element, which at least shows you are creating a common image and theme.

Where are you?
I am afraid to ask.
If you heard my voice from behind these walls, you would know where I was hiding.
Locked inside myself, I cry for help with tears of regret.

I want to call for you, and warn you of the thing that has been lurking behind you since we met.
It’s almost wrapped around your shoulders now, and you can’t even feel it.
You just fade away more and more, farther and farther.

I would try to tell you what its like, but you wouldn’t believe me anyways.
You would smile and laugh, just like you always do when I try to tell you my opinion.
It’s just something I’ve gotten used to.
Although, you couldn’t really call it an opinion, more like an anxiety.

Another string of thought that doesn't aid the poem.

And you could barely call that thing you do a smile.

It is your sneer that I’m thinking of.
That is all that is ever there, so I have convinced myself it is a smile.

You drew out the "smile/sneer" thing far too long, and it doesn't have a point to it besides for it's sake of standing alone.

Convinced myself that maybe, just maybe, you are happy with the way things are.
I hope I don’t forget my covers for such things, and get surprised by a stab in the back, or worse, through the heart.

I hate to admit things to myself...like what I am thinking now.
If you were here you would hit me, or call me a name.

I cannot believe I ever started this.
I'm telling you to go away.
I do not believe in you.
You are slowly fading away and I wish you would disappear.

You are gone and I will forget you by tomorrow.
At least I hope.

I miss you.

A drawn out ending, and nothing suprising, no salvation or tragic demise. In that case, I believe this would be "lyric".

I'm glad your writing is helping you through these hard times.