Young Writers Society

YES

Yes indeed.

I love this. I will tell you why.

Okay, my motto is creation. Poetry should be an experience, not a conversation. People write to communicate. People write poetry to convey. You did that.

You not only conveyed something, you expressed it. You constructed a physical grip of it. You made this concept tangible and sensible. That's why I love this.


The shape, the choppiness-- it's pure perfection. Why? Because that is what submission and fear feel like. It's solid, it's stable, it's a tower-- it's your poem.

I'm not in awe. I'm not baffled by your subject or social commentary, and I don't need to be. you managed to sensationalize a sensation.

Brilliant.

Bravo.

I've nothing more to say.

Keep writing

xoxo
Kitty

I am not typically drawn to love poems. This piece, however, is bittersweet and honest. I enjoyed it quite a bit really.

I thought the line breaks worked really well. Especially at the beginning. I loved the halting-ness at each "me." In fact, I felt as if the structure was what made the beginning, and gave it some originality--after all, how many times have you heard about "kissing till your lips are numb" but sometimes there's just no other way to describe it, and people understand it.

Where it started to lose me was, "Run your fingers / down my back / and call me yours." The opening sounded like it was describing honest love, surrendering love, love that made them yours. But with these lines, they sound possessive and patronizing--especially possessive. That might just be me, and my independence coming out perhaps.

During the last several lines, I thought the structure lost all its power. It couldn't save the content. The idea is there, of course, clear but not loud. I don't really like the repetition of "don't leave me" mostly because in the earlier lines the speaker sounds defiant. Here there sound...maybe this is putting it strongly...pathetic. They sound weak, helpless. Maybe that was the intention, but even so, I feel like "don't leave me" is not inspiring or important enough to repeat. It is so easily brushed over, and you want your audience to be drinking in every word--not skimming.
"Sprawled out in the mud" and "here to rot" are slightly similar, and they give the idea of abandonment, but--just my opinion--maybe you could try images that contribute more meaning than that. Think of your earlier line, "your soul wrapped in a white ribbon of surrender." Those are lines that scream "look at me, think about me, pay attention to me!" Which is exactly what you want. However, the two lines I mentioned here are tired.

Coming to the end now, "tangled / in your lust" hit home perfectly. It almost comes out of nowhere, a new idea introduced: that if they don't love the, they use them in their lust. Unfortunately a common enough occurrence. Timing here was everything. Good job.

Finally the last two lines. I know the "Oh" is part of the title. But I have to admit, I don't like the "oh." Interjections like that don't tend to contribute much besides melodrama. It doesn't mean anything in and of itself, after all.
However, the rest of it...I think I liked. I sort of have two sides of me arguing with each other about the last line. One part of me says, "Talking about jumping into love is cliche." But the other part of me says that there's more to it here than that, that it isn't just a reference to taking a risk with love, but actually suggesting what the consequences of jumping might be--either pain or death, and maybe even saying that those will (metaphorically) be the outcome, whether they are loved back or not. Love is painful after all.

All in all, this is still your piece so take my suggestions with a grain of salt. But I hope, once again, that you at least find it encouraging that I did enjoy this, and again, poetry about love isn't usually my cup of tea.

Hello, my friend.

First, I rather enjoyed this poem. It had beautiful language, but it didn't take away from the raw nature of the poem. It was truthful, wherein the beauty lies. I just have a few things to say:

but don't leave me

sprawled out in the mud