Young Writers Society

Let's be honest for a minute; we're all frauds comparatively. We review your work in the same semblance of a customer on yelp talking about their fries being to cold or something. We know nothing about the business that went in to this, we only care deeply about making ourselves to be important for some type of meaning in our own lives. Your poem has become about us. We dissect it like it was a frog talking in depth about the technicalities that we think makes it whole - like an equation that we can insert into any poem to get some quick 'review points.'

When you really read into this there is one major theme that connects each stanza. It's the feeling of utter frustration in the character never being able to really connect with the world - it could and probably is people - but it probably is also deeper and more fundamental then that. It's an utterly unexplainable expectation of reality that frustrates them-- why is it that a person who opens their arms and lets people - still has a NEED for it.

Instinct is a word that can point to a direction of the entity at play here and yet, it describes to us something totally out of place -- the word might be technically right but the feeling for it is irreproachable.

Your expectation for so long is that the action of opening up is never quite reciprocated with a feeling of satisfaction. The poem is trailing off because they are inner thoughts depicting something with much greater meaning - the natural self in a means of anxiety ridden existence - where thoughts do - in fact - trail off until they are trapped in this meaningless rumbling.

When the other reviewer talks about closure, I feel like they didn't read the same poem, the whole point to me is that there is no closure. Not everything is so simple in this cycle of anxiety/dissociation.

Excellently told, written and executed as usual.

*waves* yaaaay you're still writing poetry

Well done! It's a tragic and melancholy poem, and I admire the way that you've cultivated it here. The instinctual nature of love not being specified, to me, is a nice preface and foreshadowing of the doubt and breakdown that the narrator suffers. In spite of the relationship that they're attempting to cultivate, they are still plagued by whether they've actually changed in any way, and if they've truly resolved their internal struggles. That sense of worry about one's existence closely matches my own emotional profile, and is a nice example of the doubting introspection that can drive many people into insanity. As the next two paragraphs convey, that seems to be the case, as "the lightbulbs in the room" could easily be a metaphor for lost hopes, ideas, and mindsets, their frail bodies destroyed and fading away in the mind. Such a weakening and despairing existence is then visualized as falling, preparing for an end that, just like the common type of dream, looms ever closer and can consume a person in just waiting for it to happen. Considering all of this, I love the emotions that course through the poem, and the way in which you demonstrate all of them in simple and effective terms is amazing.

Everything about the poem also works, including your unique style. The dramatic ending is both abrupt and an ironic sense of closure, as it ties back to the first stanza and wraps everything together. Even the pauses in trains of thought are well-executed and allow for the proper emphasis, particularly in "more?" and "supposed to/breathe, exude, spread...". Given how harshly I normally pursue the topic, I am rather happy to see a poem that so readily and capably addresses it. All in all, this is a remarkable and depressing poem, one that both saddens me and pushes me into contemplation. You have always been one of my favorite poets, in part because of your ability to overcome the shortcomings of stylistic elements and make them work, and I'm happy to see the results. Great job!

Hi there Button! Nikayla here dropping in for a review. No need for a long introduction, so without further ado, let's jump right in.

The first stanza is a little odd with the wording. The phrase 'am supposed to' is what throws me off here, because there's nothing before this. I can understand that this is branching off of 'i am made of love' and that 'i' might be written off as an unnecessary word, though I don't see a problem with adding that in.

The second stanza is a little different than the first, though this isn't the favorite of the poem for me. The wording is still the largest complaint that I have here, only with 'something in me is still breathing underneath of my chest, is asking me for more?' since the line doesn't make a lot of sense. This is where I'm confused. I'm left with the feeling that I am either too shallow to get any meaning out of the line or that this is an actual mistake on your part. I can never tell with poets that have more experience.

Still, this doesn't change that I'm confused here. Bring some clarity and play around with the diction unless you're wanting to keep that wording and in which case, you're going to have to sacrifice the reader's understanding of the poem. I also don't understand the choice to use a semicolon at the last line here. What's the purpose? We know the poem continues though the two clauses with the last three lines of the second stanza and the first line of the third are indeed independent, though don't mesh well together all that much.

I can say different about the third and fourth stanzas. These are the strongest in the poem with the imagery in the third and the emotional impact of the fourth. I have to say that I don't understand why 'and' is used at the beginning of the last stanza. With that being said, I don't understand a lot of the stylistic choices here with the punctuation or the diction. I'm not asking for blatancy, though I'm asking for a bit of clarity to be shed where clarity is needed. I see the ending with the last two words being 'waiting for' being the speaker waking up after that line. While that may not be the intended meaning, that's how I perceived this. Overall, I'm not the biggest fan of this poem, though there are perks that still make this solid.

If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask! I hope I helped and have a great day.

Hey there Button,
Myjaspercat here to leave you a review.

Nit-Picks

I am made of love, am supposed to
breathe, exude, spread, drown in it like

the skin of my chest, is asking me for
more?...

how have i been the same person for so long, for so long and neverending;

spun and curved like hands, drop their light/fire/soul/breathing bodies

Alright. So I am here for a review. Really the beginning of this poem kind of, didn't grab my attention like I thought it wad going to. I can see how you are saying that everything is talking apart, and isn't how it is supposed to be. But throughout this piece it didn't really keep me kn the edge of my seat. The second stanza a notice that you repeated a long time twice back to back, I would suggest just use one and then go on with what you're saying. And then also in the same stanza you missed a space in never ending. Instead if spacing them out you put them together and made and incorrect word.
The second to last stanza really threw me off a bit because you said "the light bulbs in my room are slowly going out, the thin wires in them, so carefully spun like hands, drop their light\fire\soul breathing bodies into the thin neck of empty air, the room below," honestly that part didn't make much sense to me, but then the wording you used, making it into a living being, to me was creative and such. And then the last stanza you repeat a long time twice. Also as I said above just go with one of them and then go on with what you are saying.
But all together I liked this particular piece, it is creative, and some may be able to relate with it. And I personally would love to see more work from you in the future. Thank you so much for sharing this story.
~bvbAngel