My Sanity and I

My sanity is tripping,
blood from my wrists is dripping.
Me and my sanity fight
on what is wrong and what is right.
Slits across my wrist
take away my pained thoughts.
Tears slip from saddened eyes,
hiding words I have kept away, locked.

I really think you should cut the actions of you slitting your wrist. I could figure that you thought about it and wanted to be 'honest' with everyone about what happens with you but the way it comes off, even if honest, doesn't seem honest to your readers. You don't need to go through explanations of going partly insane either.If the reader where to hold you to all of this critical judgement on yourself then they might just call the police because you are telling us that your sanity doesn't allow you to understand wrong or right, which could just mean you are a serial killer. So not only do you have a tonal shift of a stereotype of your typical teenage drama stuff but you have unoriginal phrases that are really keeping your reader from feeling empathy for you.

Not to mention this tonal shift really has your reader swaying from one thought to the other without explanation or anything that could give us something about you. You quickly tell us a fact and leave it there without backing it up and all of the time so far, it seems random to fill the rhyme in the stanza. I almost want to suggest that you scrap the whole thing and start with your first line because the rest of us doesn't truly feel like it's you. Not to mention that if you were going to take this rather unoriginal way to go about it, you neglected the suffice amount of detail involved with imagery to persuade us and mess with our perception of the story.

It started with society,
judging me completely.
They decided how I should like,
how I should talk.
I was told how to wear my hair,
how to do a proper walk.

Mean words and constant hatred
drove a stake into my mind.
Each stake added another piece
of a railroad that lead to my demise.
And I must say,
I didn't win the battle against the hatred.
I never fought.
Bullying ruined my mind,
my smile,
my life.

The first stanza to this is lovely. Although you have a typo on the third line down where you forgot the word look. I think though it would be interesting to zoom in on this aspect you are writing about. It is much more effective to talk about one thing and show how you are influenced to do these types of things. Show just how frustrated you are, tell us how people are acting, justify the change ect. Those types of things. You have potential here to really show who you are and what happens in modern day society.

The second stanza, while I applaud you for adding some interesting content, doesn't suffice in my opinion. When deciding on your metaphor it could help to visualize it. Right now you have an image of a gory stake being driven into your head and it doesn't match the tone of frustration and anger. Also, it doesn't make very much sense because you describe a stake going into your head and then immediately go straight to making a railroad and just say the railroad is a destination to here. If you really think about it just seems sloppy and doesn't help too much the raw emotion you are feeling and trying to portray to the reader.

I really liked the image of the smile. I liked it because it was you not trying to go overboard with the dramatization of everything. It's the simple things that people don't think about that can be the most hard hitting sometimes and this is defiantly great imagery.

But again you switch subjects to fast, not explaining anything but talking about all of these societal problems all at once without getting to the point of anything. Without offering the content between you and the story. I find that this information is inside of you but you didn't put it on the page and its a shame.

My sanity and I, we suffered a lot.

Your scars are red,
my tears are blue.
I knew I was depressed,
and so were you.

Life became a fairy tale, we lived in imagination.

We coped in different ways,
counting up or down the days,
waiting for the day we get justice.
Sanity, Happiness, and Living,
they were my three blind mice.
I lost them so long ago,
it's impossible to experience them twice.
These mice drowned
in lies that never made sense.

I don't like the first line to this. It is counter intuitive. Your insanity is apart of you and to say differently without explanation really confuses your reader.

Again, you are talking about depression and this whole theme of the poem is a bit like rambling as a vent. I think it would be more therapeutic and better received if you zoom in on one topic and call it quits. Likewise you could zoom in on anything and examine it and throw it in the same poem but I'd argue that it doesn't really fit.

See, I don't find tears to be blue. The only time they would be blue is if there were on an object of something that is blue. Remember that visualization I talked about? I think your writing could be enhanced by actually looking at a picture of something close to what you are describing.

The depressed thing is really a overplayed card. The average person is on to this stereotype and can gather that you are probably not depressed. It is just a technical analytically scientifically type things that probably rule you out. If you are you defiantly need to prove these types of assertion. For one, I would just explain how you feel and let the reader decide on what word to put to it. That is more personal, relatable and credible way to go about it usually.

By the way I love the "sanity, happiness and living where my three blind mice" although it can not be understood by different cultures because the whole three blind mice thing stems from story's in our current society. Anyways it was pleasant and very logical way to say what you mean so good job. The way you changed they whole hidden meaning though just took away from it too. I seen you did this with the meaning I spoke of before. Just because you can tack on a couple other meanings is not always right because when doing that you change the symbols they represent and confuse your reader.

They called me names, so many names.
''Too thin."
and
Too fat."
"Why does she seem so weird,
why does she act like that?"
It drove my mind to madness,
drenched my heart in sadness.

I walk this world
with a tight lip glare,
trying to avert the bullies maddening stare.
Maybe life would be better,
if they moved on from me.

It's getting really hard to cope
with all of life's crap.
Each label is a kick,
every taunting laugh is a slap.
No matter how fast I run,
I can't get away.
My sanity and I,
are trapped in a cruel world.

Together, we've heard it all,
my sanity and I.
Forever stuck to my brain
are the weights of bullies words.
So many mean words slip
from their lips and crash upon my ears.
All I can do is cry,
cross my heart and hope
I'll die soon.
Together my sanity and I cope,
counting down the days.

Again the madness thing is just dishonest. If you were truly "mad" (in the context that you put it) then you wouldn't be writing poems like this. They would be about red things on walls and *insert crazy person phrase here*.

Now you keep ending what you talk about and reintroducing them. You should try talking about it really good one time and leave it there. It would pack more words in a sorter poem and make it hard hitting and emotional. Likewise, I would suggest to strip almost all of the things that are not you that are imagry and are not providing a great deal of content to this poem.

I see you hint that you might be suicidal and I want to note that you don't have to be that dramatic to get your emotions across. It would be much more hard hitting if you just got inside and really truly wrote about you. I don't think this poem suffices as writing how you feel and how and getting the reader to empathize with you. I know most people will say they do but it is different then saying so and actually feeling the emotions inside them like they are yours and that is what you should be striving for, in my opinion.

Anyways-- moving on sorry --

My mother and father never knew of my pain.
I walked this world thinking I was alone.
All I had left,
were my thoughts and I.

Death would be wonderful, great.
A vacation of peace,
away from the buzzing swarm of words.
No longer would it matter
how tight my jeans hugged my legs.
No more stares would look upon
me and judged a make-up free face,
or a girl hidden underneath shades of black.
It wouldn't matter how short I was,
or how tall.
Wouldn't matter if I was sane,
or not sane at all.

Eventually, suicide plans were inevitable.
All I had to do was say goodbye.
Death will take away my red scars,
my tears of dark blue.

Hand in hand,
my sanity an me,
held upon what was left.
Us.
Together we walked
to the bridge of life and death.
Smiling one last time,
and saying final goodbyes.
Bullies killed me,
ruined me,
wrecked me.

Life, I thought, wasn't fair.

Together,
my sanity and I,
we jumped from this bridge.
No more madness,
no more sadness.
Just death.

So this poem is about everything. I would sum this up as the stereotypes of the emo personality and it has its roots their too, which is not always a bad thing. Although you took everything that wasn't your (the shared symbols and phrases) and you didn't quite make them yours, you couldn't for the most part. It is very unemotional but to be honest you show so much potential that I want to read more of your poetry. I just wish they were more original.

It is a pretty bad poem because you talk about too much but maybe it was a poem for you to help you vent, I've written those and I have submitted them on my other account. They were particularly bad and at the time I really hadn't learned the true value in original writings because I never tried it before. It is much more emotional and helpful to overcome these hardships that we all have.

Anyways I wish you all the best,
Monsters