z

Young Writers Society


E - Everyone Language Mature Content

Scotch

by rememberme


Sometimes when my phone rings I can hear it even after I hit ignore. Like the sound finds my ears and soars through the air landing right in my ear canal. And it lives there and feeds off of my jumbled thoughts that only I can hear and it is heard when it wishes to be heard. Like when I think of you I can hear my phone ring.

But, you see I know it’s not really ringing. It’s those damn copy cat rings that have been peeking out of the holes in my ear and sleeping on my lobes. It’s a damn wish.

You see, every time I think of you I hear them. They sound like that favorite song that just keeps playing in your brain even after you've shut the radio off because it brings back faces, laughs and pomegranate kisses that you'd rather live without remembering. But, the song stays because it knows how bad you want it to keep playing so you can keep living in a dream that seemed surreal but actually happened.

You actually loved me and I, you and.. that fucking song.

Never gets old. Just like those rings..

My ears only ring when I think of you, probably because I wish I could look down and see your name all bright and illuminated shoot across that fucking touch screen. I wish I could pick up the phone and hear that voice you got, a voice that kills and shakes and shatters my whole entire body. Even if you said you hated me, I would love to hear that voice.

There aren't enough Ashley's and Veronica's with Daddy issues in this world. Because no matter how many empty hands hold me. No matter how many women stay for the night and leave as soon as the sun hits the window, no matter how many Jessica's and Sarah's I take home and pour liquor down their throat and hear them say they love me when it’s a fucking lie, no matter how many fake smiles and late breakfast there are on this confusing fucking planet.

None of them will ever be you.

And I guess that’s a compliment to all of the women I’ve held with whistling souls and callused hands. It’s almost like calling them beautiful when they realize that they're everything you're not. Because you're the good part in a bad day or that one verse in a kick ass song that just sticks out and shouldn’t be there in the first place. You’re the bubble gum chewed when you bite too far in the grape sucker. You are the bad in every good. The worse in every fucking day. But you’re the best I have to show for all the scars and slices that cover the front of my heart. But, inside I’m cold like that ice you drink in your scotch. It’s a mans drink but you drank it anyway sloshed in your mouth like peppermint wash and swallowed it fast like you were taking niquill. You treat me like your scotch. You swallowed me whole and shot me down quick and you didn't even think twice.

Just for me, tell me where are you? Because sometimes when I’m searching empty faces I still find you. You’re stuck on that one blondes smile and your light, it illuminates in her iris and I almost reach to touch her but something holds me back. That phone starts ringing and that song starts playing and I eventually clench my fist and turn away.


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178 Reviews


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Sun Sep 29, 2013 10:18 pm
Paracosm wrote a review...



This definitely reads more like an essay than poetry. It's a pretty awesome essay, but it still doesn't seem to fit into poetry in my opinion. Now, it could be considered free-form poetry, but I will admit I don't know much about the subject. So I'll just leave it at that. Anyway, onward!

I love beginnings like this. Screw the weather, screw the setting, you jump right into the heart of a matter.

They sound like that favorite song that just keeps playing in your brain even after you've shut the radio off because it brings back faces, laughs and pomegranate kisses that you'd rather live without remembering.

Now, I mostly like this line, but what is the significance of pomegranate kisses? Is it the color of his lost love's lipstick? Maybe the taste of pomegranate is significant somehow? Since the reader doesn't know why pomegranate is significant, the description loses a lot of its power.

I mostly like the voice of the narrator, but try to only drop the f-bomb whenever it is just like, 'Woah, man! Something big just happened!' The word will lose its power and start to become corny if it isn't used sparingly.

Even if you said you hated me, I would love to hear that voice.

This line was great.

But you’re the best I have to show for all the scars and slices that cover the front of my heart.

This line is a tad bit cliche. It makes me thing of goth poetry, and it doesn't quite fit the mood you've created thus far in such an awesome poem. You should definitely edit this so that it does the rest of this piece justice.

Nicely done, Rememb. Keep up the good work. This piece was very well written, but it could still use some polishing. Just keep after it!




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Sun Sep 29, 2013 8:51 am
anshira wrote a review...



I agree with ' blackwood' and the first thing I thought of was: why is this in poetry?? A very nice and well written piece of work. You have described each scence to its fullest. A bit of error here and there but otherwise a marvellous job done. The part about the phone and that song is very catching. Reduce the usage of very long lines to improve the flow of your story. Overall, a very lovely short story. Hope to read more of your work. Good luck!
-Anshira, Team Blue.




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Fri Sep 13, 2013 10:39 am
Blackwood wrote a review...



Hey there. Why is this is poetry? It is most certainly a short story.

First thing I noticed was this:

I can hear and it is heard when it wishes to be heard. Like when I think of you I can hear my phone ring.

I feel like this line is a little muddled and unclear. I think you just need to rephrase it so it runs more smoothly.

They sound like that favorite song that just keeps playing in your brain even after you've shut the radio off because it brings back faces, laughs and pomegranate kisses that you'd rather live without remembering.
I think you need some punctuation to smooth this line up a bit. Its very long. Like so:
"They sound like that favorite song that just keeps playing in your brain even after you've shut off the radio; because it brings back faces, laughs and pomegranate kisses that you'd rather live without remembering. "

After reading through some more you seem to have many very long lines so I won't go through them all, I think you should just take a moment to re-read them and split them up with some punctuation.

I like this prose as a whole, it captures you feelings, so all I think that needs a little wor is the long sentences and all. Good writing.




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Fri Sep 13, 2013 3:36 am
Cailey wrote a review...



Hey there! Cailey here with a review! :)

So, you did a great job of filling this with emotion. I loved the style you used to write- making all the words come together just quickly enough that in order to read you had to read faster, and it was like the guy thinking and remembering and like the phone ringing in the background... it was brilliant. :D

I did notice a few errors and typos, but nothing that isn't fixable. I'd suggest reading over this one more time on your own, and then reading out loud. That way you'll be more likely to notice any mistakes, and you'll be a lot more likely to catch any awkward sentences.
Plus, while the fast pace is a good thing, you want to make sure that there aren't any places that go too fast- since if the reader can't keep up they won't want to read.

You did a good job on detail, too, I like how you mentioned brief descriptions of the wife, and the other women, without sounding too detailed but still giving us enough to picture the situation in our minds.

I also loved how you brought in the title. I was about half-way through and wondering why the title, and then you waited, and made me wait, until the very end when you brought it back in. That was really good.

A little bit more clues on what happened to the wife might be nice, maybe a word here or there to confirm that she is dead, or left, or whatever. Just a tiny bit more background.

Other than that, I really don't have negative comments. I hope this was helpful, though, and make sure and get those typos cleared out. :D

Keep writing! And let me know if you have any questions.





Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
— Mark Twain