Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language and mature content.
What is it like to be free?
Free of all pain?
Free of all anger?
Free of all distractions?
Is it nice?
Is it paradise?
Or is it Hell?
Fires burning the Well?
Will no one ever know?
Will I never be free of this?
Will I always carry this burden?
Can I keep the voices within my head quiet?
Or will they tell me the things I know people say behind my back?
Can I keep the Demon inside of me hidden?
Hidden away from all the good-doers of the World?
Or will it pounce, making me hurt you?
Making me self-harm to keep from screaming?
What do I say when you don't feel okay?
Do I say, "I hope you get better"?
Do I say, "Oh man, I hope you get worse"?
Or do I do nothing?
Do I block you out of my life?
Do I try and keep my thoughts to myself, away from you to hear?
Or do I tell you, causing you to agree, I'm a piece of nothing?
Maybe I should leave you be...
That's the right thing to do.
Right?
Wrong!
You said you weren't okay, and you died.
You said you were never okay, and I didn't tell you that everything would be...
perfectly fine.
I never told you how much you meant to me...
And then the day came, when I was alone, and unloved,
and I wanted you to see that I wanted to have you back.
And you couldn't answer...
You wouldn't answer....
You were upset.
You were disappointed.
And you hated my guts.
You killed me emotionally,
Hoping I would hurt others that I cared about.
And I did.
I hurt them so fucking much.
And they tried to help me.
Ask me what's wrong.
"Why are you mad at me!?"
She asks.
"Let me deal with my problems on my own!"
I respond angrily.
I want to tell you what happened.
But then I remember:
You won't care.
You hate me.
For all you could care,
I could break my bones,
and you wouldn't bat an eye.
Then later, when you realize something happened.
You ask me what's happening,
why you can't see.
I tell you that it was your fault.
And it wasn't your fault.
It was mine.
I tell you my problems.
And you say you're sorry.
I forgive you,
find out that someone hurt you.
And tell you I'll fix it.
And we stay the same.
What's it like to be free?
Free of all pain?
Free of all anger?
Free of all distractions?
Is it nice?
Is it paradise?
Or is it Hell?
Fires burning the Well?
I don't think I'll ever know.
I won't ever be free...
am going to write a response to this
you can't stop me Stark. You. Cannot. Stop. Me.
This poem hurts me too much to read and I keep coming back to it because its torturing my brain. I will type up my response on our feedpad so you can watch, watch as I put my true thoughts down and see the good things I have to say, see that I have no bad things to say about you.
I just wanted to say that your poem is definitely powerful. You express so much hurt, confliction, and of course pain. I feel as though the format of this poem helps show the emphasis on important concepts such as anger, pain, freedom, and hell. And maybe I'm wrong, but I almost analyze the use of "hell" as having a double meaning, in that it is used in a sort of emotional hell, but also the concept of actual hell could be used giving it a deeper meaning and expression of the speakers emotional distress.
By repeating the two opening stanzas at the end, you effectively show the thoughts repeating through the speakers mind, contemplating this unfortunately negative dilemma within themselves.
I really don't have any suggestions for your poem, though I would like to say that if this is a reflection of you as the author's thoughts, I would just like to reach out and say that you are a fantastic writer and very good with your words. If you ever need to talk to someone there are always people out there who you can talk to. Writing is an amazing outlet but sometimes talking is the best medicine and can prove very beneficial.
I hope to read more of your writing soon!
~Lila
Firstly, I appreciate the formatting of the poem, but it did mean at time it was confusing or just outorght difficult to read. If less of the poem was formatted differently, as to create emphasis, I think it would work better.
The repetition is really effective, and the strike through on some words is really creative and successfully says a lot about what the speaker thinks- just by showing what they DON'T want to say.
I don't really have a problem with the wording itself, except for the rhyme of 'Hell' and 'Well', which isn't bad, but does strike me as odd when there aren't any other rhymes in the poem that I can remember. However, the wording is not the problem yet I feel like this would work better as prose rather than as a poem, as it resembles written words or speech rather than verse.
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For the few of you who knew what happened, this is how it went for me. No, it didn't happen for real, like someone died, but everything else happened. Sorry if none of you like it...
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