"Why do you hate me?" Screamed in quick succession.
The words rattling through a mind that no longer cares how much the world thinks of it, nor how slow the hours pass. A mind the knows neither up nor down, left nor right, a mind where the lines between love and hatred are so blurred all it can do is find the quiet voice that says, "I can't answer that question."
"Answer me damnit!" The words growing louder with each syllable, rolling off the tongue like daggers into a confused and cracking heart.
"I...I won't" the quiet voice raising in defiance to the absurdness of answering such a question.
As if the simple words I hate you have ever rolled off the tongue, they taste like dirt in your mouth, too full of hatred and malice to even think let alone say or articulate. The opposite of everything your mind cries and longs for, for too many spiteful words have left your lips before, yet those small three are held back.
"Why do you hate me!" The question is repeated.
You can feel the calm breaking, the dust starting to fall from an untouched thought, and the words you refuse to say, for they would hurt too much, and they would wound too deep. The words your heart doesn't even know, for you long ago shunned them in an attempt to make others smile.
Watching as they walk across you and laugh in your face, letting yourself hide the hurt given to you by those you cared the most for. Showing the fragment of what may once have been a real smile, what may have once been a laugh that would bring tears to your eyes. Unable still to utter those words even as that stinging voice declares that those are your thoughts.
"Stop it, just stop!" The words yelled pleading for the end of a questioning that is only out of spite.
The beat of a heart racing, slow anger creeping into a mind that has been fading, losing the control that has kept back those words.
"Just tell me!" Shouted, demanding.
You look in the eyes of the other, not knowing what to say, all the words trapped in your mind toward this being that constantly repeats a single question. The feelings of sorrow, regret, guilt, pain, pity, and longing, but hate, hate is a word that has never entered this mind toward the voice that constantly asks why do you hate me. Hate is a word that has never even left your lips to spite another, it is a word your very soul despises, for it means that you yourself have lost the ability to see the small rays of sunshine that fall each day.
So you see, you can't hate the voice that constantly asks, you can only quietly say "I don't hate you" as you take a step back unable to explain.
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141,455 Literary Works • 674,469 Reviews
Hello, Teddy here with a review!
First, let me say that this good. I just can't seem to tell if it's an internal battle, or if there is another person. The imagery is great. I really got a sense of the emotions.
Anyway, onto my nitpicks.
First, there were not a whole lot of mistakes. I'll just point out the ones I saw.
I'm guessing that 'the' should be that.
You need a comma before the quotation.
I hate you should be in quotes.
Well, in closing, I'm glad you moved it from poetry. While I know that poetry comes in many different forms, this does not seem poetry. Regular narratives can have a rhythm to them, not just poetry can claim it.
I would like to see more from you in the future. Happy writing!
Hi, Legy here.
Ok, I'm going to get straight to the point; this was not a poem. A poem needs to have spaces and at least some rhythm. I clicked on this expecting a poem and instead I got a narrative of a feeling. This might sound harsh, but the number one thing a writer should not do is promise something that won't be delivered. Because it was not in poem form, I did not really want to read it because from the beginning I already had negative expectations. Sorry, but that is just how I felt because you did not adhere to the structure of general poetry.
However, I did read it, and to be honest it would have been more effective if you had written in a more clear, cutting way rather than just describe the emotion in huge unnecessary chunks like you would in a diary entry-yes! That's what it resembles.
Look, no hard feelings; it was a good concept you had going, but it lacked in sophistication and clarity.
Best for the future, sorry if this review was really mean.
Thank you for the feedback, this piece is one that is very different from the style I usually write, but I will say this much, when read aloud, and spoken, its rhythm is there. This is a spoken word poem. I very much appreciate your review, and took the note, so it has been changed from poetry to narrative.
No worries, I guess I'll have to have another read of it. I may not have paid enough attention to the apparent rhythm.