Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.
Paper floorboards.
I watched my family grow and break in that house.
Little barns for playing hide and seek turned into hiding, hoping
never to be found
and forest games of tree creatures turned into alone and breaking
in the highest branches
deciding whether it would be a good idea to fall
and break my outside to match.
Matches on the pottery wheel looked so much of unsteady faith
and I grew to love that memory
of running through a muddy grass field
sinking my flesh into nails left by forgetful builders.
When my sister first got drunk
the big screen window was torn wisps in the hot night air and I felt
that it took away my ability to breath right like I used to
at age seven, shallow pools in my grumbling belly, but
I built a circle of twigs in the woods
and sat inside it for a long time
believing that I had made a line that only I could cross
that it was me, just me
and everything beyond meant shit that I wasn't supposed to
think about.
Age ten was when I first fell to that place
where dreams look like death escapes
and ambulance sirens sound like the kind of music
you aren't supposed to listen to twice
because the lyrics will just make you feel bad about yourself.
I never connected the way I grew up
with all the ways you tore yourself apart
but I hated how you related to the world
because my relationship with you was too tired
barely even trying
and hoping that the painting turns out anyway.
I watched my family grow and break in that house.
I held it between my teeth like wheat-grass
just barely keeping my country cool
and making sure the crickets didn't hear me crying
each night to the dirt and sweating moss.
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125,007 Literary Works • 672,815 Reviews
Hey there! First off, welcome to YWS. Hopefully you're liking it here, and if you have any questions or anything, feel free to message me or leave a little note on my wall
I watched my family grow and break in that house.
Alright, poem time. I liked this. I liked this a whole lot. However, it could be polished. You had a lot of opportunities in there for punctuation that you didn't take advantage of. Now, at times, this added to the mood of the poem very nicely. At other times, though, I was just getting lost. Mind you, I was getting lost in some really beautiful imagery, but the fact that I felt so bogged down in the rambling nature of some of these lines really took away from that. I'll go through in a spoiler and show you how I would punctuate it. Do with it what you will, but hopefully at least some of them will help
Spoiler
Little barns for playing hide and seek turned into hiding, hoping
never to be found
and forest games of tree creatures turned into alone and breaking
in the highest branches,
deciding whether it would be a good idea to fall
to break my outside to match.
Matches on the pottery wheel looked so much of unsteady faith
and I grew to love that memory
of running through a muddy grass field,
sinking my flesh into nails left by forgetful builders.
When my sister first got drunk,
the big screen window was left as torn wisps in the hot night air and I felt
that it took away my ability to breath right like I used to
at age seven, shallow pools in my grumbling belly, so
I built a circle of twigs in the woods
and sat inside it for a long time,
believing that I had made a line that only I could cross—
that it was me, just me
and everything beyond meant shit that I wasn't supposed to
think about.
Age ten was when I first fell to that place
where dreams look like death escapes
and ambulance sirens sound like the kind of music
you aren't supposed to listen to twice,
because the lyrics will just make you feel bad about yourself.
I never connected the way I grew up
with all the ways you tore yourself apart,
but I hated how you related to the world
because my relationship with you was too tired
(barely even trying.)
I hope that the painting turns out anyway.
I watched my family grow and break in that house.
I held it between my teeth like wheat-grass,
just barely keeping my country cool,
and making sure the crickets didn't hear me crying
each night to the dirt and sweating moss.
Now, non-puntuation-y things:
I think it'd be really cool if you made it "hiding and hoping to never be found" because it mimics the structure of "hide and seek" a little more closely, and thus really adds to the juxtaposition of those two.
This could use some changing. The phrase "turned into alone and breaking" is especially awkward when used like this,and there isn't a strong enough idea of what these "tree creatures" are to build a proper sort of contrast with their later, broken state. Here's where a nice metaphor would work nicely. I would pick some woodland creature you're fond of. Then build on the idea of wild freedom and happiness they possess. Then I'd still reword the bit about alone and breaking, because it could be so much stronger. If you'd like more help brainstorming a new way to say "alone and breaking" just message me, I've got a few ideas that might could get built up and I'd love to help.
I also think stanzas would help clear this poem up and make it easier to read, too. It sort of looks like you had spots that were meant to be seperate stanzas, but never actually breaking the lines up. The breaks really help it seem less daunting, as well as clarify some of that disjointedness.
Otherwise, this is lovely. I felt it, I connected to it. You have a really melancholy beauty to the way you word stuff, and I adored that. Can't wait to read more from you!
Thank you for this! I appreciate you taking time for such a detailed review. I did add much more punctuation and separate stanzas, though some of the words you changed were there for specific reasons and would change the meaning to much. I hate to think my ideas aren't clear though, so may come up with a few differences. I would love to know some of your ideas for changing alone and breaking, thought it sounded a bit weak as well.
I loved this poem because I could totally relate to it! Thank you for expressing your thoughts in this beautiful piece!
Thank you
This is a really nice poem! I really love the way you talk about your memories of growing up! In all honesty it is a beautiful piece! I really cant connect to the feeling of this poem, so it's going to be a little difficult to review, but I'll try! When you say "Just barely keeping my country cool" I would add a comma at the end of that. Same with a couple other lines through out the poem. Really nice writing though! This poem really got my attention with in the first couple lines! Can't wait to see more of your work! (sorry it's such a short review.)
~Spaulds
Thank you for your insight. Where else do you think extra lines would be good? Is it just that I am jumping from one point to the next too fast?