🤧good stuf
Un problema poquito. Did you mean hydrogen peroxide?
Me gusta mucho.
Trigger Warning: This poem contains detailed mentions of being cut. While the intention was that another person was doing the cutting, the poem's vagueness can lead to it potentially being interpreted as self-harm. If mentions of self-harm are triggering to you, this probably isn't the poem for you.
the last four years
the last four years
have been a series of thin incisions
cut into fragile, soft human skin.
i’ve watched my blood boil
underneath the surface
of cuts that appeared too fast
for me to stitch closed.
i poured hydroxide peroxide down my arms
and watch the infection bubble.
i dabbed triple antibiotic ointment
on anything that looked too red.
i slapped band-aids onto still aching wounds
and momentarily forgot
that i was hurt in the first place.
my nerves shut down
from the constant influx of sensation.
i couldn’t tell you how many times
the blade traced a line
from the back of my head
down my spine
underneath my arm
and right to my heart.
but there aren’t any new cuts today.
my blood hasn’t dripped onto the stained carpet
i run my fingers over all of my white lines
and tried to remember what it
felt like when the wounds were still fresh.
the blade is still here.
someone always brings it back
when i throw it in the trash.
but someday my cuts will be little more
than faded scars
and i’ll only remember the pain
when someone asks
how i got them in the first place.
Wowzas Mage, this is good!
I of course was drawn to it by the title, with today being today and all. I almost didn't read it because of your T/W (thanks btw for including that) but I went ahead and read it and I'm really glad I did. Your imagery is super powerful and this was a really good allegory.
Now, to hopefully make this somewhat useful, instead of just rambling about how much I loved it 
i’ve watched my blood boil
underneath the surface
of cuts that appeared too fast
for me to stitch closed.
i poured hydroxide peroxide down my arms
and watch the infection bubble.
i dabbed triple antibiotic ointment
on anything that looked too red.
anything that looked too red.
my nerves shut down
from the constant influx of sensation.
but there aren’t any new cuts today.
my blood hasn’t dripped onto the stained carpet
i run my fingers over all of my white lines
and tried to remember what it
felt like when the wounds were still fresh.
but someday my cuts will be little more
than faded scars
and i’ll only remember the pain
when someone asks
how i got them in the first place.
The "underneath the surface" doesn't sit quite right for me. I guess my brain is interpreting the imagery quite literally, and is there really a surface of a wound? It seems like the surface would be the skin, but that's been destroyed, so there's not really a surface anymore, no?
Maybe something like "through the cuts" or something? Because I imagine you're talking about seeing your blood boil through the lense of the cuts that appeared too quickly for you to close them up.strong BLM vibes here
I really like the literal imagery you used here. It's clear that there are strong political undertones here, but there is a real, necessary cause to deal with tending literal wounds and I like how it can apply to both. We have to clean out the metaphorical and physical wounds. I think this sums it up very nicely for both. Also,
I'm SCREAMING omg xD
These lines are absolutely chilling <33
I'm really sorry that this is something you have experienced, but as someone who has a fair bit of trauma, I know exactly what this feels like and these lines hit really hard. You are doing an excellent job portraying such a horrible subject.
This line also hits really hard. It's one of those particularly-applicable-to-both-themes lines and I applaud you for how well it's done. It's like the still after the storm, both of self-harm and oforange man inducedpolitical harm.
It sort of feels like the first line doesn't fit with the others here? Like it seems like you switched thoughts but didn't bring us along with the transition. Maybe this one would fit well with the line about new cuts? That would reduce the impact of it being a single line by itself, but it seems to fit that vibe better because these next lines have a different mood.
This might be a cool place to play around with other like conclusions as society as a whole. Like, no more cuts are happening, but you remember what caused it without being asked. Maybe something hopeful about like the memory of the pain moves me to help or something you know? Cause like the scars of the riots are still all over the POC community. The scars of January 6th will be remembered in the hatred of domestic terrorists that haven't suddenly vanished today even though we're hopeful things will get better. You know? I'm not quite sure what it is that I'm suggesting here lol but it might be cool to play around with the faded scars being your motivation to make sure no one else gets cut by the blade that marred you, or something?
Oooh that's good to know! I feel like this might be a bit of a filler stanza, now that I'm looking back on it. Do you think it would work if I removed it from the poem?
I was originally imagining me telling my grandkid about the scars because it very much feels like a historic time that's going to show up in their school textbooks
Thank you again for your review! It was really helpful. <3 <3
I think it's interesting how this can be interpreted as self-harm because there are many people who would shirk the blame for things they've done and insist any harm they've caused is the fault of the victim. In a way, it's digging the blade in deeper, gaslighting in a way.
I love the imagery here! It calls back to childhood, in a way, for me at least, though I think that's because I haven't used hydroxide peroxide since childhood. Either way, the fact that it reminds me of childhood is cool because it extends it so it's not just the last four years that have felt this way, it's just more prominent because it's more recent - and knowing this is about the past four years in America, I can say that a callback to childhood still works because many of these problems in America weren't new in the past four years, they were just given a bigger platform.
HIYO! This is Hailey's review on your Amazing Work! Just here to tell you all the amazing things that you did in this. This piece flows really well. Not only that but I can picture it in my head while reading it, so that's a plus, that's something most people look for when doing this. This happens to be my favorite part.
"i poured hydroxide peroxide down my arms
and watch the infection bubble.
i dabbed triple antibiotic ointment
on anything that looked too red.
i slapped band-aids onto still aching wounds
and momentarily forgot
that i was hurt in the first place."
It reminds me of things that I, even as someone whose had to do this, Makes me think about the old times. Its really well worded and Is over all pretty good. So thank you The amazing writer for writing this Amazing poem.
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