Young Writers Society

this blood wants to be free
instead of ever-sluicing in my veins.
it hates the dullness, the monotony.
so, i am only relieving it, letting it drain.

it bites and bubbles at my soft skin,
mumbling pleas to escape from this cell.
black bars, echoing when hit, like tin.
i would have to be cold-hearted not to free it from this hell.

i can hear it sighing a breath of relief
as it pricks the clean surface of my arm,
eating pureness and soaring uncontained,
feeling the silky air whisking past it.
it crawls from the seam of this passageway
to freedom, and it is a burst of colour
when the metallic sun shines down, the grey
wind shrilly flies, the blackened grass stands tall.

lava-hot tiny bubbles edge from this thin, straight,
unapologetic rip in the skin.
unapologetic. yeah.
at the mouth it starts to gush, starts to
pour more willingly, loving the sweet scent
of oxygen and cool air, throwing itself at
this opportunity with excited mutterings.

it struts like a lie on free ground,
being born unto this already bleeding world
with such exhilaration and promise.
it feels good to be able to
give these violent rivers a chance at snacking on air,
as i do continuously, taking it for granted.
these dripping blood beads flourish and
trickle downwards, towards my wrist,
down my fingers and with each
river that escapes from the slice in my arm,
the ocean fortifies and begins to
drip to the floor,

polluting sweet cement with my insides.
o, my insides! draw near!
but they gush away, flowing off only to
drop into the black nothingness at the earth's edge.
i pursue them with desperate tears slipping down my cheeks,
wind rushing in my ears, i have never felt such
impetuosity as i rush frantically down the road.
although, liquid is far too quick to be captured.
it surges so recklessly down the
hot, hard concrete as i collapse on my knees in exhaustion,
tears itching to join my blood on its
swirling journey to the ends of the earth.
and i try to scoop them up and back into my eyesockets
but they flow and pour so rapidly and disobediently
that it is but a foolish hope.
along they gush, never to be contained and i
sit here watching them,
knowing i shall have to be more cautious next time.
written: Friday 26th of March 2004, 11:59pm and Saturday 27th March 2004, 11:25pm.

You have such a knack for description, it really is beautiful. But, and I hate to say it, be careful you don't overdo it. If people are too lazy to read all of it, then it's their loss, but you might just lose people's attention if you milk it too much. Know what I mean? Anyways, an interesting take on the subject. I enjoyed reading it.

well, i was rather dissapointed that i spent my last few minutes of time online wasting my time reading this...
:sighs: okay i need to stop being so mean. please forgive me.
anyway, it was an okay poem.

Very nice. Good job with this piece of work.

Just as Matt Bellamy said, try not to overwhelm the reader. You might consider having the attitude that your reader will not be willing to struggle in understand your work. Make it so that it will be easy for all your readers, but with no less uniqueness.

eh..soso..I appreciate the personification, but honestly, when does blood sigh It was okay, not one of your best...

I really love this, but I agree that it is a tad too long. At first, I only read half of it, skipped down to the reviews, decided it was worth reading, and went back. I'm glad I did, I really do love it!

Not your best. You seemed...careless with this piece. Sloppily construed.