Published March 30, 2010
I could not cry that day. After nights
spent sobbing into comfortless pillows
and my father’s thick arms, I could not stir
a single makeshift tear from my eyes.
I remember watching others weep,
dull drops dotting their crimson cheeks,
painting “I loved him best,” in
faux sadness and pain.
I remember wanting to wear my misery on my face,
wanting to pair my pain with that too-short-for-a-funeral
black and pink skirt he would’ve loved.
I remember standing a few feet from that deep brown box
and staring as I pressed my toes toward him,
but not my shoes.
I remember shuffling forward,
brushing my dry lips against his cold, dead head,
knowing he’d rather be kissed by a girl in a short skirt
than cried for.
I remember the cream puff they’d positioned him on
made the whole charade look like an oversized bassinet,
and I remember the strange woman
who slid her arms around my neck.
She whispered four words that were fitting:
Isn’t my baby beautiful?
I agreed.
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141,396 Literary Works • 674,387 Reviews
Thank you so much! Very helpful comments. I definitely tried to take your advice into consideration... one more question, how does everyone feel about the repetitive terms "dry, dry" and "black, black" ?
I was really into the effect at first and now I'm a little less sure...
I have just read the above version, and from first glance, I can definitely say I like what I read. Just a few things to note: firstly, I think almost everyone must find that tiny text hard to read - maybe just keep to the bigger, yes? Second: great starting line - 'I could not cry that day,' - an immediate hook. Third: this is a poem ABOUT an emotional topic, but that doesn't necessarily mean it has to be over the top emotional or descriptive. Be subtle about your feelings. They have bigger impact if seen through a cool, objective, more distant lens - as readers, we have not had exactly the same experience as you, so to make it more accessible and more powerful, keep it simple, but not simplistic. Make it tangible.
Specific advice: definitely break up lines a lot more - I generally don't like reading everything in one huge clump. Also, think about cutting down on some of that imagery - it is beautiful, but unnecessary, and just makes the poem border on being 'overdone.' For example: in the second and third lines - 'After endless nights spent sobbing salty streams into feather-filled pillows and my father’s thick arms'- the 'thick arms' is a powerful and original image, the 'feather filled' is unnecessary and detracts from the main story you are telling, and the 'endless' is likewise unneeded as you can simply say 'nights' and mean the same thing.
I re-edited this...
Well done. I've lost friends before, everyone has.
Yes, I am a Junior in college now, but this is all based on a true event. My friend passed away when I was 16. Thank you very much for the kind comments!
This was...amazing. There's no grammer mistakes, and the flow was beautiful. Did this realy happen to you? Your decription was very real and very sorrowful, but not in that depresed whiny way. I loved it.