Society fucks up - always. I can say that with not evidence, but with experience
when I still stand here and watch as the people around me, who pass me everyday and continue to move but do not feel their hearts beating blood,
that carry broken shards of glass from the consequences that they had to pay
because the Muse plants ideas in so many heads, so many other people,
and I have to help mend what I can from the cracks in their skin,
the old mends in their battered and dented armor and shields - reopened like stitches on closed-up wounds,
and the unimaginable pain that they've suffered that does not show up physically
so it does not heal normally - none of this can be done "normally".
I can see the dried tears on the sunken look in their face, and I can only embrace them,
become their supporting beam and the hand that rubs their back as they shiver and shudder
and I in turn do the same, because I have been there before even if my own circumstances are forunate compared to - we feel the same pain, even in different amounts.
Because in turn, we all suffer.
We all hurt, we all suffer, and it goddamn hurts so fucking much that I cannot just reach out to them and tell them that they're going to be okay, because sometimes they can't, and I can't lie
and another life is taken - by their own hands from the strings that orchestrated their pain,
before death made themselves seem too sweet, too merciful.
So look me in the eye, and tell me with a straight face if whether or not that I do not see what's wrong with the world,
that I'm just a child, and that I do not know what the hell that I'm talking about,
because if you can tell me that what I have been able to see, able to hear, able to feel
were merely some sort of fucked up mess of lies that I composed
because I have problem X and problem Y and problem XYZ,
but if you can tell me, face to face, eye to eye, with no lies coming out of clenched teeth
that society doesn't fuck up, that all is goddamn right with the world and the way it is, then maybe,
I could believe you, and that I won't have to hold another broken soldier in this journey of life,
and then maybe, I won't have to hurt with them anymore.
_____
Not the typical scary writing piece that you would imagine seeing on this day.
Had a feelings jam with my friend earlier, and I just have to take out these emotional feelings that I have from comforting, because it's what I do. This was doen in the most rawest form of writing that I would normally never tolerate, but I just needed to post this. So that it doesn't sit in my Documents in a superposition.
Nevertheless, I hope that you all had fun trick-or-treating, or dressing up, or like me - not do any of that and just stayed at home; Happy Halloween! c: Reviews and comments are always appreciated, thanks!
I liked the brutal rawness of this piece for its honesty and, well, I can relate. However, relation doesn't mean I shouldn't critique.
As it were, your imagery often became choked up, tangled within itself, and I think you could work on stretching things out, explaining more about what you mean. Either that, or kill your darling and take a few red hunks out of this piece. Remember writing works like a phoenix and not a zombie; it rises more beautifully then it did before, not uglier (normally).
I see that this piece could either be a) prose or b) a prose-poem. The voice is strong, but the piece isn't particularly poetic. It even reads like a short story. If you want it to be a poem, I suggest taking up some of the normal constructions relating to poetry, shorten your lines, create stanzas rather than paragraphs, add some rhythm, etc. Read your poem aloud and try to find better words to make things more lyrical, more musical. If you want to try out prose-poetry, I suggest looking it up and reading the works of the greats to get a good taste before you try to edit. I suggest you also read more poetry, free verse poetry, to get an idea of what I mean by construction, that is, convention. You can break the rules, but you need to know them first, ya know?
Thanks for sharing and keep writing,
Cas
Hello! Let's have a look at what you've got here, shall we?
Specifics
1. The first line is wonderful, though I'd suggest flipping the with and not around so it becomes 'not with evidence'.
2. The second line is clumpy and the flow isn't as strong. You need to cut a few words out or you need to stop pretending this is prose poetry and live up to the possibility that it's poetic prose. There is a difference - in prose poetry the line breaks still mean something and they still make a rhythm or a picture of sorts. When I look at your work, there are words or sections that jump out at me which feel like they should be on a different line or like they should be the end of a line. For example, 'continue to move' needs to be at the end. That's too good an opportunity to miss since you'd emphasise the move and it precedes a pause and change in beat.
3. Repetition
You've got to know when a word is worth repeating. Sometimes it's a set rhythm that makes it work and sometimes it's the word itself, but you've got to use it sparingly and carefully. I think you come very close to cracking it with your use of mend and the repeat of mends, but I want to see you get that double meaning in of 'old mends'. I don't know if you intended it, but I like the idea that the old mend, whether that be old people or old souls. The ones who've seen this before and have some idea of what needs to go where. But at the moment it's all but lost because you're not drawing attention to it. Forget for a moment the style of this poem, and here's how that line/ section could work:
and I have to help mend what I can,
from the cracks in their skin,
the old mends
in their battered and dented armor and shields -
reopened like stitches on
closed-up wounds,
Forgive me for playing with your words but all I did was add a comma and line breaks so actually I did very little, but an awful lot. Now this stanza could be read in two ways, which is very nifty no? I think what I'm getting at is that your form isn't working for you. It's too in between and too uncertain of what it is. You can have prose poetry, but you've got to get the line breaks right and it has to still feel like poetry. Otherwise it's poetic prose and then you don't have to worry about the line breaks and can focus on the rhythm instead.
4. Content
What I like about this is the content. It's too raw to really grab me enough at the moment but it's definitely worth editing at some point later when you're less in the moment and feel more ready to take a second look. And that's because it's getting at something and I like what it's getting at. I like how it turns to an attack on society and the way that society tries to fix people by stamping a label on them and saying 'this will balance out that' and 'this will make you feel better' instead of fixing the problem. Is it right that severe depression is now broken into different groups of illness? I don't know. But the line that struck most true to me was this: because I have problem X and problem Y and problem XYZ.
It's partly the word play which was very alike to the first line, another favourite of mine, so maybe that reaffirms that all you need to do is cut away some of the excess and fix the flow.
Overall
In it's current form it doesn't work but I'm glad you got the idea and the words down on paper because that's yours now and maybe one day you will return and make it work. If you do, I'd like to see that so let me know and I'll gladly give you a closer review of the piece.
Take care,
Heather xxx
This is just a very general comment. I think that you should put your comments that you wrote at the end of the poem at the beginning, just because when I'm in the "browse section" of the first thing I see in the preview is the f-word, and I always think it is good to give people a little heads up as some are sensitive to that kind of stuff.
Sorry, I don't mean to sound weird or anything.