Warning: This work has been rated 18+ for mature content.
I was always told of what I could be,
it always ended up never being me.
I wish that I was honest, say that it's not fine,
but I couldn't, and my pain converted into dark wine,
connoisseurs claim that it tastes worthwhile when it ferments,
covetously crave and consume,
drink,
drain and forget what it represents.
Digging through red waters, scratching in vain, murky with peril,
I never realized that there wasn't a bottom to that barrel.
Skin will be stained, and the holes bore on the contrary won't be empty,
Body; the sugar that fills it plenty,
I dig through the rust, to make room for my grave,
to master the willful blood, dirt and dark my slave.
I became what I was always told I'd never be,
nevermore will I hold my breath for it to just be me.
Wine trying to blend seamlessly into water, I cut my skin,
colorblind from straining my eyes, I became wise for sin,
used for advice that is always taken, and never received,
whining waters that ebb and echo, be deplorable and deceived.
It is an addicting art of its own,
to mold a body and grave into my throne.
I shattered my weak bones, and tore through my sinew,
I found relief in the wine, anguish that spilled anew,
and when the greedy come crawling, eyes searching for the sky,
addicted to my wine,
believing they cry,
but in truth,
I find them dry.
I will endlessly be told of what I could be,
in the end never me, on my hands and knees, lock and key,
but I hold out, for the hope, that the art of atelophobia will set me free.
This is very profound and emotionally drenching. You honestly did a good job with this piece. I see the first stanza as you talking about your pains in representative of a wine and going deeper in this pain it eventually start to consume you. Honestly the parts where rhymes where employed , I liked. You did a good job overall with this piece, I hope you keep on writing and have a nice day.
Wow. God damn, that hit hard. I love this poem, the falling and rising and sinking art. One critique is I felt like this would have hit harder if you didn't make it rhyme. Let your words fully flow. Rhymes schemes can be constricting when it comes to poems of this sort. Let your rhythm flow and the words come out. I feel like at certain junctions you forced a rhyme that was unnecessary. LET THE WORDS FLOW! 
. Anyway, awesome job. Awesome, awesome, awesome job.
hello hello
so first things first, i'll touch on theme, because of how impactful it is to the actual story of the poem. atelophobia is the fear of imperfection, and since it ends in phobia, it often foreshadows an irrational fear. that already sets up the basis for the poem, no matter what any kind of interpretations come up. i think that's a fitting way to describe this.
there are a lot of ways to look at the imagery here; the references to self-harm, the mention of addiction, and even the very free moving format you have set up. i can almost pinpoint this to being about body image? at least from what i see mentioned about actual body parts, like with the word body being said many times and the mention of "hands and knees." even when it is subtle, i can still pick up on some bits that could lean toward it.
along with body image, i also feel something that could be reminiscent of eating disorders; "Body; the sugar that fills it plenty," being my main point. body image issues and eating disorders are often comorbid with each other, as well. the usage of the underlying theme of addiction is also another interesting piece because once something becomes so engrained into your life, you can find yourself relying on it too much.
both of those are complex topics. both of those are quite poetic.
although, i feel like this poem kind of dances around a solid theme? like there is nothing that actually points towards a meaning that is for sure. there's the theme of atelophobia, but i'm unsure if that is a metaphor or not. like i said, it tends to dances around a solid theme. that, of course, is fine if you intended for it, because you are the one who wrote the poem; i do think that it becomes somewhat less powerful that way though.
this was lovely to read though. happy writing!
- mothbroth
Hello! I'm not great with poetry but I enjoyed this and I'm going to give reviewing it a go!
Okay, I liked that you used words with double meaning to hint at other things like-
'Digging through red waters, scratching in vain,' - this was a good way to foreshadow the self harm later in the poem.
Also -
'addicted to my wine,
believing they cry,' - wine being the drink and also 'whine' as in the cry. The wine is symbolic of this person crying out for help. So that was really well done.
Going back to the beginning. These lines -
'but I couldn't, and my pain converted into dark wine,
connoisseurs claim that it tastes worthwhile when it ferments,' - I thought were very powerful. To me, this is about how the world tries to break people down, fill them with insecurities, and then feed off, manipulate and take advantage of the mess they've created. I think that is something we can all relate to in one way or another.
'Wine trying to blend seamlessly into water, I cut my skin,
colorblind from straining my eyes, I became wise for sin,' - the link to religion here is very raw. These ideals that are forced on people through religion do more harm than good. For a religion that says that God doesn't judge, there sure is a lot of judging!
The ending is a very emotional one, as the poem comes full circle. This person is stuck in an endless cycle that they can't escape from.
Overall, a very powerful piece! I don't usually like poetry but I enjoyed this!
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