our childhoods don't look the same childhood friend
I worked on our friendship and you worked on me
your hands grew into my brain like weeds
laughing you asked me if I realized I was too quiet
later you asked me if I knew how to shut up
I either couldn't draw or I was an artist
the perfectionism, do you remember that?
your words made me a modern art canvas
one where you cut holes into the unweaving fabric
you came for my face first and my voice second
slicing through my paint skin and through my cloth bones
I didn't speak as the carpet blade marked it's path
I sat still with full trust in my creator
you cut out my eyes so I couldn't see
how ugly you made me
when it was time for us to part paths
and we took our final pictures
you had me hold the camera
not wanting your mistake on film
as you ripped your roots out of my skull
and left me to bleed into the earth alone
as I lay there torn and frayed I realized in horror
what you had done but my sobs didn't get past
my soil sewn lips and painted on smile
I guess you really thought of everything
the task was mine
to put myself back together
without all of my original pieces
and some that I wish I never had
I still can't scrub away the feeling
of your tendrils from the backs of my eyelids
i dream that your roots have replaced my own
I know I'm not in your pictures
and I'm ashamed of how much I remember you
Hello, My Friend!
Hiya, Fig! Context: I was checking out the older works in the Green Room and happened across this lovely piece. I thought I'd give it the attention it deserves with a quick review, hope you don't mind!
To start, wow! I mean, you have a knack for poetry—this is gorgeous! It feels like an exploration of a toxic friend from your past (boy, aren't those the worst?), and the damage they've caused. Likewise, the challenge of picking yourself up after such an experience, getting blindsided by their leave, then finding your footing after all of that and realizing just how bad the damage really was. At least, that's the best way I can describe my own interpretation, I'm probably off here in some way...
*ahem* As far as a technical review goes, I don't really have anything to recommend! I love the substance of this poem, the metric and general structure feels nice, it's very well-written...Solid 10/10 in my book!
As far as favorite parts and lines go, hmmm...That's tricky for this poem! I would have to go with...
I loved that first line and the context it gives, that is quote-worthy right there. and how real is that! It's like...sometimes you inherently change from friendships, but when changing you is their goal all along, it's rarely for the better...Also, the visual with the weeds? Amazing, love that. It makes their influence feel like an infestation and gives such surreal undertones right off the bat.
This was such a good visual to show the utter pettiness that can stem from these types. This does feel like something a toxic friend would do, have the "friend" they deem a mistake hold the camera.
This whole moment was GOLD. The visceral language, the horrific imagery—this feels so raw and real, and it makes me sad for the narrator on one hand, and from the perspective of poetry, it's so beautiful and real, I love it.
Overall, that was an absolutely wonderful poem—I am SHOCKED it's spent this long in the Green Room!! Nicely done!
"They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night."
"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality.”
"I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty."
My lovely fig!! Chem here to give you a review on this wonderful poem. I will attempt to interpret it, because that is the wonder of poetry--everyone sees it with different eyes.
So what I’m getting from this is the narrator’s childhood friend has left them (perhaps to move away, though I am definitely getting natural drift-apart vibes from this) and throughout all these years, the narrator still remembers them--and the memories they have together hurt them because their relationship was toxic in a way. Toxic childhood friendships sometimes only show up in hindsight, and this poem shows that in such a depressing tone. The narrator has been deeply hurt, and the other person has gone on with their life--which is so real and devastating within this work.
I believe you capture missing and nostalgia in such a tragic way, fig. These images are so vivid and grounded, yet they still symbolize feelings in a non-literal way.Your poetry as a whole paints my mind blood-red, and this is no exception--though now I am also getting forest green and hurricane-blue in there too.
The last lines put the nail in the coffin, and they are so well chosen. They capture that feeling of being hurt by someone who is long gone, with no chance for closure or remorse.
I ADORE your poetry, fig. Please keep writing. If you have no fans, I am dead.
<3, chem
omg thank you so much TvT