raise my tiny fists to shatter open heaven

Well this was extremely interesting, I found it t hard to follow at first glance, but, when I took the time to try and understand it it became rather extraordinary. Your mind is such a complex place, and your thoughts hit you at all times. The depression you feel is prominently shown through the piece and it makes for a lovely structure. The struggle is evident, but, I especially took a liking to that line "I'm spilling the universe from the cracks in my head" I resonate so well with it because it's often how I view my own headspace. As a universe filled with endless thoughts, imagery, words, poetry. It made me realize that I'm not alone in my struggle to maintain control of my own head, my own emotions. And I'd like to say, neither pat you. God bless I hope you continue to allow the universe to seep From those cracks

This is Nikayla dropping in for a review!

I haven't seen your poetry around recently, so here I am to review it! Nonetheless, let's delve into the start of the poem. The first stanza sets up a bit of an atmosphere, but I don't know how I feel about the wording of it. The phrasing, "mother's gas station cigarettes" seems like a little much, and I suggest that maybe you take out the "my" before "mother" as it adds more of a tone to the piece. The first two lines work, but the last three lines of the stanza kind of drift away from them and I suggest that you rework them. I get that you have a lo-fi influence with this poem, but I'd like more of a focus there.

For the second stanza, I think it had a stronger focus with just those four lines. I enjoyed the last two lines especially because I can understand and get behind the tone and atmosphere you're trying to set up in this poem. It has a bit of a rhyme, which I don't know if that was intentional or not, but that was nice even though the other stanzas of the poem don't really rhyme or have a strong rhythm to them. The lines flow for the most part, and that's why I enjoyed them, but they weren't the strongest. The third stanza works for what it is, short and to the point.

The fourth stanza is where I started to feel iffy on things. It felt a little cliche and isn't really anything new. The atmosphere that you set up with the first three stanzas is kind of broken as well as the focus. You lack a focus here and start talking about the universe. I don't hate the stanza, but it does feel a bit out of place. I'd like to see you tie them together better, perhaps some sort of narrative would do that for you? That's just a suggestion since the piece seems to hop from thing to thing, though they do share a similar feel throughout.

The last three stanzas have the same problem to me. They don't really tie anything up in the poem, and the ending lines aren't all that spectacular. I would have liked to see something that tied to the beginning of the poem or earlier in the piece, such as the beginning stanzas that felt kind of lonely and talked of cigarette smoke. You begin to do this with the lungs being full of doubt, but you never really follow through. The piece works for what it is, though I would like to know what the theme of the poem is or what you were trying to get across more clearly.

I hope I helped and have a great day! If you have any questions, feel free to ask.

Heya, Dramamine! Casanova here to do a review for you! I'll be taking this stanza by stanza, so I hope you don't mind. To the review!

boredom seeps through the second hand smoke i breathe

from my mother's gas station cigarettes.

loneliness sneaks up on me when i look out an open window

in the middle of winter and think about dying.

i'm not the same kid i used to be.

small midwestern dreams

can't save me from the ghosts of everything i didn't do

or every other fucked-up kid i didn't say hi to

but i was made to outgrow you.

i'm drifting through these sterile subdivisions

high school bathrooms

and grocery carts.

i'm spilling the universe from the cracks in my head

and a thousand stars cut the inside of my mouth

when i try to find the right words to speak.

my spirit is getting weak but i'll

still raise my tiny fists to

shatter open heaven

for the promise of something better.

i think of how my body will look after sex and when i'm dead

with my legs spread

out

to let the sun in.

i am weightless and i am warm

and my skin is made of clouds.

i feel nervous and open

and my lungs are full of doubt.