dust

Beautifully crafted, as well as painful, because I identify with every word. Thank you for sharing. <3

Wow. There is a lot of feeling in this poem. I love how you compared memories to books in a library covered in dust. I feel as if I can feel it as you described here, and I can't help but realize that this poem hits home with me.

With this poem, I feel like there is so much said here, i so little words. Because guilt does cover everything. And I feel like some parts of this poem really hit deep when it comes to the truth for instance...

"i breathe it in and feel it settling in my core"

When you feel guilt, it usually settle and sometimes stay and in real life, it keeps you from doing things and trying harder

I really like this poem marmalade!

As for grammar... I am pretty sure that every first word of each line is supposed to be capitalized.

As is the word I.

Short and cutting, residual lingering presence on the weight of guilt and leaden memories. It's a nice poem. I'll keep this brief because the issue to me is with the ending because it's almost as if the lines "i'm not..i am" and "it's quiet" got reversed as to where they belong contextually. The brevity of the piece definitely saves you a long haul of contextual piece arranging, but when you talk about being open, it naturally follows the notion of book, library, dust imagery and metaphor.

That said, it doesn't make for a strong ending, I feel. But if you were to end with

but i can feel it coating my skin at night
i breathe it in and feel it setting in my core
it's quiet

gosh Marm you're such an inspiring writer. You constantly inspire me to keep writing, regardless of whatever has happened between us. Your work is always so beautifully written and that is something I aspire to do. Thx for being so amazing <3

Holy crap Marm.

That is powerful.

That actually took me by complete surprise and I RARELY feel the rug swept underneath me in a poem (usually I can see it coming) but this gets to me precisely because it is so simple and brief, the scene described with the dusty books so familiar, the connection between books and memory is even cliche, but the execution here, the movement of my eye as I read and the speaker's finger as they pick up the dust and the tactile sensation that culminates and I am truly connected with this soft voice, with the quiet with the emotions. I feel that transformation in the end how so quickly and suddenly the speaker becomes like the untouched books on those shelves, but the movement of your lines are so slow and delicate, the transformation so fast and perfectly timed. This is a poem where I enjoyed my experience reading! It was fun and apt and affected me c: awesome!

The only thing I might suggest is to cut the first line, or if the intention is to equate the layers of dust with the feelings of guilt, then I would move that line after "it's quiet" so that it reads: it's quiet / guilt is blanketing what's left that's warm / i can feel it covering my skin..." (I don't like the double-usage of "cover", so if you do decide to move the line, note in my example I tweaked it a bit?) Just some suggestions but take it as you see fit or with a grain of salt

Nothing more needs to be said. Bravo!

- as always, Audy