My Painful Death

6 posts
User avatar
Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 25
I look down at my shaking hands pale and covered in blood
I slide up along the bathroom stall
when i look outside the door to the mirror
my face is as pale as a ghosts
I'm not sure what i should do
my decision is to wipe my face off
next thing i know I'm stumbling to the ground
my eyes begin to feel like they weigh a million pounds
I don't regret my decision
finally my misery will be over
My eyes slowly fall down
and i feel like something is coming to reach down and grab my body
i roll onto my side and i feel my heart rate slow down
I'm dead
gone with the wind
FREE
Last edited by BroadwayGirl on Tue Jan 01, 2008 12:38 am, edited 1 time in total.




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 1090
Reviews 53
It's good, I just think that some line should be separated.

ex.
when i look outside the door to the mirror /my face is as pale as a ghosts

i don't regret my decision/ finally my misery will be over
Just never ever forget to live ok? Never ever forget to be happy when things maybe aren't the greatest. Yeah, that's right- because every moment is making you who you will be and is really worth it in the end. So just....live.




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 11
Niiiceeeee :)
Was it a suicide?

Till death,
Icequeen




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 1609
Reviews 602
Broadwaygirl --

For the sake of not repeating myself, look at my critique for 'Someone'. Here you have the same basic issues, except for the nit-picks.

Punctuation. Grammar. Capitalize your I's, please.

Once again, you have a greasy-glass poem. Nice idea, some description, but not enough. I know this critique is really short but I don't want to say the same things that I said for your other piece.

It seems that you were inspired by Meg's poem. :P I noticed that. Heh.

Anyways, this also has potential. The whole emo-I'm so relieved to die, my life is a lie idea is cliched but that's beside the point. Everything will become cliched eventually, will it not?

Keep writing! You can always PM me with questions and comments. :)

-Camille

P.s. Icequeen - that wasn't exactly a helpful review. Try to include what you liked about it and why if you can't think of anything they can imrpove on, ok? Not trying to sound like an ol' grump, but it is important that you know this.
everything i loved
became everything i lost.


Would you like a review?
http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/topic73903.html




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 890
Reviews 11
Oh.
Sorry.
I'm not exactly a very good critic.
I was trying to be nice, people! :)
Anyways...here's a 'helpful' critique, then:

It's pretty good, except for GRAMMAR GRAMMAR GRAMMAR! Sorry, but grammar is a MUST! And the capitalization of the "I"s.

Everything else, I basically agree with the others. You have potential!

-Icequeen

PS: Sorry, I just didn't get whether or not it was a suicide. I'm kind of clueless...




User avatar
Gender Female
Points 5120
Reviews 317
Great imagery and vivid descriptions.

my eyes begin to feel like they weigh a million pounds

Love that line!


Read this phrase slowly and loudly:
I look down at my shaking hands pale and covered in blood


comma after 'hands'... it sounds akward otherwise

finally my misery will be over


or
how about

My misery will finally be over

both make sense but i think the latter sounds nicer.
up to you.

my face is as pale as a ghosts


GHOST'S ....comma


and i feel like something is coming to reach down and grab my body

The 'like' sort of ruins the affect.

let's rephrase this:
I feel as if something's coming to reach down and grab my body...

Something's coming to reach down and grab me...


or....
...

well the 'like' doesn't really fit.

other wise great poem...
love the ending!
toodlez
-icy,
I'm a godmother, that's a great thing to be, a godmother. She calls me god for short, that's cute, I taught her that.
--Ellen DeGeneres



The idea that a poem was a made thing stayed with me, and I decided then that I wanted to be an artist, not just a diarist. So I put myself through a kind of apprenticeship in writing poetry, and I understood even then that my practice as a poet was deeply related to my reading.
— Edward Hirsch