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E - Everyone

keep me wild.

by Brenn


I need someone to keep me wild.

To remind me of the pleasure in smiling.

To let my emotions seep to my pores,

My eyes bewildered in excitement

During my high of interaction

Or wilted when my engagement level has reached its peak.

Keep me wild.

Keep me, me.

Or else I will fall victim to my own

Imagination.

I will encircle myself in a vision.

I am pensive, not just in word but in action.

I sweep the halls of a crowded schoolhouse.

My eyes staring onward,

Not catching a glance at my peers

Who laugh and chat and bump

Fixated on my path.

I gaze out the window of a moving pickup,

Red against the gray gloomy background

Of dawn before a rainstorm.

Smell of earth oozing from the ground.

My countenance giving no hints

As to whether there is any

Encephalic activity,

Let alone if I am truly feeling anything at all.

Artful.

This vision in my head

It’s appealing.

Like in the depths of Romania.

But remove the soulful romantic tension

From the man we call Dracula.

Remember, he is dry.

What was once a man

Is now just an enigma of passion.

Passion for one entity

Can consume an individual

And easily be mistaken for

Passion of another.

This is a warning.

People are not attracted to

Those they cannot see.

And this includes the attraction

Towards yourself.

Take away the characteristics

That makes you concrete.

You are just an abstraction.

Ungraspable for human comprehension.

I need someone to keep me wild.

My sarcasm will slit the throat

Of those who come in close contact.

Like the tension of a boot on the gym floors,

Scuffs that leave a mark

But are easily erased.

I wheeze when recounting the same

Joke for the fiftieth time.

Why did Waldo wear stripes?

He didn’t want to be spotted.

My eyebrows are tethered to the sky and lifted

My teeth extended outward like a horse grazing

When I see my passing test scores.

When I see what is for lunch in the cafeteria.

When I see my someone after a typical day.

I punch through hard sobs to catch a breath

I quiver and ball on a puffed cotton comforter

When I see my favorite romance film.

When I see my father go through a box of bottles.

When I see my someone after a warful day.

I need someone to keep me, me.

Before I fall subject to the shadow

Of my secret self of broken integrity.


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User avatar
20 Reviews


Points: 1717
Reviews: 20

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Mon Mar 30, 2020 8:04 am
IIUMBRELLAZ wrote a review...



Hello! The poem is beautiful and has a lot of large vocabulary words which I personally love. There are a few small mistakes that I would like to point out.

"Smell of earth oozing from the ground.

My countenance giving no hints"

The first line should start with the word The.

"From the man we call Dracula.

Remember, he is dry."

There should be a comma after the word Man.

"And easily be mistaken for

Passion of another."

Before the word Passion should be either the word The or the letter A.

Overall, the poem is wonderful and has a lot of potentials.

Keep up the good work and KEEP WRITING!
:)




User avatar
8 Reviews


Points: 200
Reviews: 8

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Fri Mar 27, 2020 4:59 am
theescaper020 wrote a review...



GOOD LUCK
Hii Brenn!! I loved the idea where the poem revolves.I liked the way you presented your deep desire to find someone who could be by you side when you are at your lowest,someone who could support you. I can feel the writer's feelings.Everyone needs someone who one can lean on in there darkest time,who could lead you to the light, who could give you hope,who could love you for who you are. My favourite part was when the author yearns for someone in front of whom one would be able to show his TRUE SELF. The line; "I need someone to keep me, me." struck me really hard. I can feel the narrator's emotions. Overall I loved your poem. I will look forward for your future works. Best Luck. By:ESCAPER020





'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of all sorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only they needn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.
— Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights