| You’re my bones. And I have no flesh above bones. I have no blood. No veins. Just bones. My skeleton is just so ugly. But it is all made of you. Of your being. And I can’t even stare at a mirror without being stared back by your eyes. But, now, right now, I don’t even have to explain to you why I have nothing but bones. I don’t have to really tell you how the cigarettes blackened my lungs. I don’t have to explain to you how I didn’t want to eat anymore. And furthermore my stomach tore apart. I don’t need to tell you how I spilled my blood out by crying. I shouldn’t even explain to you how my skin was destroyed with pointless scars. My ears were deafened by the same gothic songs I heard since your absence. But you don’t have to know that. You don’t even have to know how I was blinded by the absence of your image. I lost the sense of smelling. I didn’t smell your perfume anymore. Or the dry black rose I always kept. And then… Nothing. This moment just came. As expected. And I was empty. I had nothing, but bones. You’re still in my bones. |
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125,015 Literary Works • 672,845 Reviews
Some strong descriptions, beautiful mid section. I think it would be more relatable, or more available, if you cut some of the straight forward references to "gothic" stuff. Cigarette blackened lungs is a good way of getting that point across a bit more subtly though, great start.qqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqqq
This was so good I almost started crying. The point of your writing could be many, but the thing I see is truth. I see people walking out on the streets each day with scars on their wrists and instead of most turning in disgust I feel a moment of pain, for I know something was torn from them have it been pride, love, family, or purpose. keep writing because no matter what anyone says people need to hear this.
This was so good I almost started crying. The point of your writing could be many, but the thing I see is truth. I see people walking out on the streets each day with scars on their wrists and instead of most turning in disgust I feel a moment of pain, for I know something was torn from them have it been pride, love, family, or purpose. keep writing because no matter what anyone says people need to hear this.
Hi Ejvlana, Amindor here.
When I read the first line of this, I was immediately drawn to it. The past few minutes I have found myself reading it over and over, and that's a good sign. If I love a piece of work, I'll want to just keep reading it.
First, I love how you wrote the last line. It's a simple set of words, but the fact that you bolded them put more meaning into the sentence, as if there's more emotion in it.
It explains so much all at once. The concept of depression when you lose someone you love, emotionally or physically, and the little things that come with it. I don't know exactly what happened to the person the narrator is talking about, which maybe can be something you could easily fix so it'll be more understandable.
There aren't really any major concerns I have with this, so good job! I have absolutely fallen in love with this work, and I can't wait to read and review more of yours in the future.