Friday

by Sonder

Fridays are burnt tongues and murmured prayers.

"God, help me survive the weekend."

Fridays are waking up and lying there for what seems like days,

wondering numbly

if anyone would really care if I wanted to just

be,

and fail to appear again.

Fridays are forcing eyelids open and buying coffee

without really seeing or thinking or doing much, and

drinking it before it's cooled and flinching,

always flinching, every time,

and wishing I had cold water but

knowing that it costs extra.

Fridays are crinkled eyes and dimples because

I should be happy, everyone seems to say, because to them,

Fridays are goodnatured groaning about

stupid things like math homework (that I won't look at 'til too late) and

smiles from strangers (the ones I return are fake) and

friends laughing and patting each other on the back

"We survived, didn't we, we had a good show,

until Monday, until then."

And Fridays are wanting so desperately to be happy

and satisfied,

and relieved,

but Fridays are knots of dread locked around my bones for

two and a half days (and three twilights, three sunsets, three dark nights) without a

set in stone schedule to propel me forward and

keep my chest rising: up and down,

up and down.

Fridays are watching other people cheer and

tumble from the school doors with grins and keys in their fists and friends in their cars.

Fridays are thinking to myself that

the clock always wears down too fast,

burns up the minutes with the slow sear of a candle.

Fridays are sitting home alone.

Fridays are the pressure of things that I

should do

must do

will do, eventually.

"I'll get to it tomorrow."

Fridays are telling friend after friend that I'm feeling ill

even though I've got nowhere to be and nothing to do and

I've been staring at my basement wall for two hours straight.

Fridays are falling asleep with guilt in my chest and the whispered out loud promise that

"Tomorrow, I'll do better."

And Fridays, even if I do nothing and

say nothing

and think of nothing of importance but

burnt tongues and white-washed walls and

how much I wish I could just sit and be,

that's what they are,

to me.

Comments

Points: 340
Reviews: 16

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Mon Sep 14, 2015 3:04 pm

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kenziefavaloro wrote a review...

I do not know whether this is about a person with social anxiety or if it is about a person fighting depression. Either way, this poem is very deep. It sets a weary tone and the attitude towards Fridays in this piece of literature contradict to popular belief. I like that. Even though it is just a piece of literature, hopefully you do not personally struggle with Fridays like this. Even staying at home on Fridays shouldn't be an inconvenience, even if it seems like it. The meaning of this poem that sends a message of sadness and worrying about what others think and do is common. Away from analyzing it in that way, overall this piece is very well laid out. The stanzas and punctuation layout grabs the reader (as it grabbed me), and I really enjoyed your work. I hope to see more work posted from you soon, keep up the good work!

Sonder says...

This poem is about depression, and even though I don't have it, it runs in my family and I sometimes experience low episodes, so I wanted to convey that feeling. Thanks for the review!

Sonder says...

This poem is about depression, and even though I don't have it, it runs in my family and I sometimes experience low episodes, so I wanted to convey that feeling. Thanks for the review!

Points: 3874
Reviews: 158

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Sun Sep 06, 2015 5:51 am

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Corncob wrote a review...

This poem makes me cry. Not out of pity for you, but empathy. ~~errgh~~
I admit, when I clicked on this poem, I did not expect its theme to be depression. I was thinking along the lines of Rebecca Black, "looking forward to the weeeeekend", and general joy of school ending. Well.
Have a hug (I think I read somewhere you don't like hugs, but have a virtual one anyway). I know depression is not "fixed" by someone saying "I hope you feel better." But I really, really hope you feel better, if only for a day. One day at a time <3.
Mmk, on to the actual review.

and wishing I had cold water but

knowing that it costs extra.

This isn't constructive criticism, per say, but why does water cost more? Isn't water supposed to be free, or is that only where I live?

"We survived, didn't we, we had a good show, .

u Until Monday, until then."

This is a stylistic choice (duh), but I just thinks it flows better as dividing the two quotes into separate sentences. :-)

Fridays are thinking to myself that

the clock always wears down too fast,

burns up the minutes with the slow sear of a candle.

In this poem, instead of having the usual smooth flow of a poem where you basically try and eliminate all the unnecessary "ands" and "buts" at the beginning of the lines, you do the opposite, and it totally works. It works because it adds to the desperation of the poem in a heartracing way. In the third line of this poem, you sort of break the flow of the non-flow you've created by adhering to the usual "guidelines" of poetry. Honestly, I like it, but I feel like if you wanted to keep that adrenaline rush of desperation and ripping through the poem, you should add something like "that it burns up the minutes with the slow sear of a candle" or "it burns up the minutes with the slow sear of a candle." But, like I said, I like this line, so it's your call on this one.

Fridays are sitting home alone.

This stand-alone line, man. This line.

And Fridays, even if I do nothing and

say nothing

and think of nothing of importance but

burnt tongues and white-washed walls and

how much I wish I could just sit and be,

that's what they are,

to me.

I didn't love this ending. I understand (or at least I think I do) what you're trying to say here, but it didn't really come across as strong to me. I love the line "how much I wish I could just sit and be" but, other than that, I felt like this stanza was kind of just "let's wrap it up with a summary of what I mentioned in the beginning." I don't know how to write an ending for you, but I'd love to see something that really moves me like the rest of this poem did.

Several times throughout the poem, I confused this for procrastination. And maybe it is, in some parts. But what it really is about, as you stated, is depression. Physically being unable to move yourself forward because you are stuck in this dark place. Like you're suffocating yourself, almost, and all you want to do is get up and do something, but you just can't.
Sorry for the melodrama; I just wanted to define this poem for myself. Excuse my flimsy similes.

I hope you have wonderful day, and the day after that, and the day after that.

Overall rating: 9/10
Keep writing!
+1

Sonder says...

I thought I responded to this, but I just looked back and realized I hadn't. >.< Sorry.

In response, thank you so much for this review. The suggestions are immensely helpful, and your comments also comforted me. Thanks for your well wishes. I've been doing a lot better this week.

Corncob says...

I'm happy to hear that

Thanks for writing ^-^ and it's always nice to hear my suggestions helped

Points: 5966
Reviews: 498

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Sat Sep 05, 2015 8:27 pm

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Que wrote a review...

Hey Nightcrawler,
I'm here as promised. I felt that this poem was very relatable, and I could tell how some things are related to depression. This is styled very well.

Fridays are goodnatured groaning about

stupid things like math homework (that I won't look at 'til too late) and

I like this. We all have that math homework that we should be doing, but there are other things on some people's minds, troubling them and making them neglect the work they know deep down they should be doing.

Fridays are falling asleep with guilt in my chest and the whispered out loud promise that

"Tomorrow, I'll do better."

This definitely is what would happen after someone is not doing work- at the time when they're sitting alone and lost in their thoughts, they don't care, but then in the night they regret it and tell themselves that they will do better. Nicely done in summing up these feelings. However, I personally prefer "aloud" here instead of "out loud" here for the flow.

and think of nothing of importance but

burnt tongues and white-washed walls and

how much I wish I could just sit and be,

that's what they are,

to me.

This ending really just hits me. It repeats the "burnt tongues", a sort of repetition that makes you think of the repetition of Fridays, of the continuation of depression. Also, I love the tone you set with "nothing of importance" "white-washed walls" and "just sit and be" because they make me think of a person who just exists, and they feel like they lack purpose.

That's the tone I get through the whole poem, and I know I've been through periods like this before. This is a very accurate poem, and it definitely conveys emotion really well, despite it being a negative emotion. Well done.

-Falco

Que says...

(I hope this review was alright and lived up to your expectations)

Sonder says...

Thanks for the review. It means a lot.

Points: 1561
Reviews: 109

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Sat Sep 05, 2015 12:57 pm

GLaDOS wrote a review...

Hello! xJ here for a review.

Fridays, eh? Well, the title seems self-explanatory. But first of all, I was a bit confused at the line: "if anyone would really care if I wanted to just be, and fail to appear again." Now I'm not sure exactly why "be" has its own line, if you could explain that for me? Unless it was just a careless mistake. That line was also confusing with its words. I couldn't understand what you were trying to say, but anyway...

"drinking it before it's cooled and flinching," When I read this, I was like: "I TOTALLY do that!" And it's good to have poems that relate to your audience. Nice work.

"Fridays are goodnatured groaning about" This line confused me, maybe you need to separate these two parts? But if you know that this is supposed to mean something, explain it to me? Because I'm just a dumb 14-year-old that wants to review something. But, if your audience doesn't understand part of a poem, that's a red flag.

"(and three twilights, three sunsets, three dark nights)" I don't think this is needed, is it really? When you put parenthesis in a poem it sort of disturbs the flow of things. At least that's what I believe.

"tumble from the school doors with grins and keys in their fists and friends in their cars." Too many and's! Try using a comma every once in awhile.

"burns up the minutes with the slow sear of a candle." Nice line, this just sounds cool alone, but it sounds nice and artistic in the poem. And nice use of the word "sear."

And may I just say, apart from a few mistakes, you nailed that ending! It sounded nice and to the point, like a poem should be. And I agree with you on this, Fridays can be real misery sometimes. Nice work, but iron out your mistakes, yah?

-xJ ♥︎

Sonder says...

Many of your comments are on stylistic choices that I made on purpose. This poem is about depression, I just used Friday as a vehicle for it. The "to many ands" is a polysyndenton, a figurative language device used by poets write often.
Sometimes poems aren't written for the readers too understand immediately. This wasn't a literal poem about Friday, but a reflection on self hatred and deep sadness. Thanks for the review.

Sonder says...

Ugh sorry for all the typos, my autocorrect is an idiot.

Points: 342
Reviews: 89

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Sat Sep 05, 2015 4:28 am

DeepCrystal wrote a review...

The woes of a high school dweller. Don't worry, it'll all be over (at least the high school part, life doesn't get any easier afterwards). Why guilt? Does that have to do with a mistake regarding a peer? Or is it just a random guilt over nothing? Were you this tired of listening to "It's Friday"? I hate that song too. You botch a lot of people's ideas about what Friday means, but I like it. I don't really know what to offer you critically, but I was entertained by this.

See ya.

Sonder says...

This poem is about depression. Not everything is literal. Thanks for the review.

DeepCrystal says...

I saw the depression in it. I know that not everything is literal. And I do hope that life gets better for you.

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Friday

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