Hanged

All night
we wrung our necks
in vulnerability.
We nervously pricked
open our bodies,
our elbows
and knees stabbing one another.

When we bit down,
and shoved ourselves
towards one another;
with every
scrape and
clumsy claw
we took each other's life.

This morning I greeted you,
as you hung there
like a coat.
And for the first
and last time
in my life
I could reach you.

Hmmmmm....... I find this interesting and disturbing at the same time. Brilliant to say the least- you sure have a way with words! Keep it up!

The poem was great. And the imagery, flawless. I loved the way it talks about temporal hell. There was a dark sickly terror in the poem which made me cling on to every word.

But the poem could have been a bit longer. Punctuation was not a problem but there are some spelling mistake. Example "caot" I'm sure you meant "coat". I am certain it's a small typing mistake. The ending could have been a bit more descriptive.

But all in all, a great. =)

Wow this poem opens up a new page of imagination, to the fragile i believe they will see this as disturbing but this is because there missing the extended metaphor throughout the whole poem.
i think this poem is amazing so well done and Keep it up.

Overall, you have a very good story to this. However, it was not what I would call a 'spectacular' work.

Your rhyme scheme was non-existent, but that's not really an issue. Sometimes, you just don't need your piece to rhyme.


As far as the rhythm, though. . . Your rhythm was broken, fragmented, scattered, and, at times, it just wasn't even there. You can go without rhyming. But you have got to have some form of rhythm within the piece, to direct the pace of the work, the flow, and how the reader processes the words. I would really like to see if you could revise the line structure so that it would have better flow. As a general rule, flow improves comprehension and imagery. If your flow is broken, the comprehension of the reader is lessened. If the rhythm stutters too much, the imagery is marred.

Keep writing.

Yours,
Pyro