The RBC race

Heya, DD! Casanova here to do a review for you!

Since this is in the spotlight, I figured I should give you a good review! Anyway, let's get to it. I'll be taking this stanza by stanza, so I hope you don't mind.

Beads of perspiration roll down my scalp,

palms sweaty, chest heaving

heart beating rapidly.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

I can hear my own breath

-ragged and desperate.

Extra white space, to start off with. Is this intentional or do you not know about shift key + backspace/enter? Anyway, onward.

You've created an air of suspense here, which I do enjoy, but I had a few notes on it.

TO start off with, you're doing listing. Statements like,"I am," "It did" "he was" things like that. THey make up most of your poem, and that was a let down. You're using narration to an extreme, and I think you could throw some of both away and still make it decent enough. ANyway, onward.

The silence in the darkness feels thick

haunting, screaming silently.

I reach over,

switch on the lights

but the brightness feels too bright.

I reach over,

switch off the lights

but the darkness feels too dark.

One thing is to keep your tense consistent. I dislike the usage of,"screaming," then just using,"switch." It makes the flow feel odd, as if you were just trying to stop using words that end in,"ing." If that makes any sense.

The next thing is the actions. You basically make a point in using,"I," in most lines throughout the poem, and it's one thing you should avoid. Try different styles. Mix it up. This is the same thing I've seen from you a thousand times. Anyway, onward.

I can feel the blood travelling in my veins,

travelling from my heart to the lungs

flowing rapidly through the pulmonary vessel

the RBCs running past each other

-like kids desperate to win a race.

I try to outrun them

try to outrun my thoughts, my demons

-the ones representing the dark abyss I call my mind.

You use,"my," until you clarify lungs. If you're going to keep it up, make it consistent. It's a ta annoying to see otherwise.

The last line was a bit of a let down. I would suggest cutting it- you wouldn't lose anything from it. Anyway, onward.

I can feel my sanity slipping,

like sand from between my fingers.

I can feel myself getting lost,

lost in the darkness around and in my soul.

As I said before, shopping lists, and too much narration. I would suggest something to the extent of,"My sanity slips and I feel as if I'm lost." One line which has the same meaning as all four of yours, has less narration, and I feel flows better than this. My point is- the more detail and the more imagery you have does not make the poem better. Find a balance between imagery, emotion, and narration. Otherwise they'll be too much of one and not enough of the others. Here, as I've stated, you're listing your imagery. There's nothing really to make the reader feel.

That's all I have to say on this one, and I hope it helped.

Keep on doing what you're doing and keep on keeping on.

Sincerely, Casanova

Hello DivergentDemigod!

Okay. So I loved this. It kind of feels like something I'd write, I guess there's a personal connection there, which is wonderful. There are just a few things I'd like to comment on, I beg your pardon if I get too nitpicky.

palm sweaty, chest heaving

Maybe palms?

I can hear my own breath

-ragged and desperate.

I think it might read a bit better if the dash was on the end of the first line rather than the beginning of the second. Does that seem to flow better to you? And I would say the same thing about the other places where you do this, but if that's your style of doing things, that's totally fine.

The silence in the darkness feels thick

haunting, screaming silently.

I reach over,

switch on the lights

but the brightness feels too bright.

I reach over,

switch off the lights

but the darkness feels too dark.

Just yes. Yes. I feel you here. So perfect. <3

travelling from my heart to the lungs

It may not seem significant, but I think the difference between saying my heart versus the lungs is very prominent. One is showing the reader it's personal, it's a part of the narrator. The other is going the opposite way- there are lungs, they aren't the narrator's, they're foreign and alien. Maybe I'm taking that too far, but just think about which way you'd rather have and maybe make both of them the same.

RBCs running past each other

-like kids desperate to win a race.

I try to outrun them

try to outrun my thoughts, my demons

-the ones representing the dark abyss I call my mind.

So this is where the beast is finally revealed. I like the idea of the racing blood cells, and then it's like you're racing your thoughts too. This seems quote personal already, but I would even like to catch a faint glimpse of a specific demon the narrator is trying to outrun. Maybe for a split second, he or she can barely see it catching up, knowing he or she can't run forever. Just a thought. I really love it when people put scientific things in poetry too, so the RBCs agree with me.

getting lost,

lost in the darkness around and in my soul.

Last, I really like the repetition of the word lost. Really powerful! However, I think the last line is a bit bulky because you say "around and in"- maybe just stick to one? You're wrapping it up, so I feel like you should make it a bit more concise and drive the point home.

That was fantastic! It describes what I feel a lot, so it made me happy to read. I love your imagery and description, I think it's really strong. Even though the narrator isn't doing anything (other than turning a light on and off) you create tension and stress, and movement through the racing of the heart and thoughts and blood cells, which kind of contrasts with the other image I have of someone lying in bed, darkness creeping into his or her soul. Really well done!

-Falco