Young Writers Society


For the days I crawl into my black hole sheets

PreviousNext
  1. I woke up today. Sadly.
  2. My mind starts to race a mile a minute from the first conscience breath I take to the last. And it spins inside my head behind my eyes like rusty gears in need of a good oiling.
  3. I hurt. All over. My body is sore from lying in bed all day but my sheets are black holes I can't seem to climb my way out of.
  4. I only climb my way out, for the temptation of food. And then I go back to my endless cage.
  5. I'm alive.
  6. I take deep breaths to remind myself that I still can.
  7. I'm afraid of not breathing, yet it's the only thing I joke about, so much so I often wish it was reality.
  8. My mind starts to race a mile a minute. It races a mile a minute with the images of perfection I see all around me. WHY CAN'T I BE PERFECT TOO.
  9. I hate myself. Or at least the perception of myself that I see in the mirror every day, did God just make me blind or am I truly that size.
  10. I'm fat. fat. fat.
  11. I woke up today. Sadly.
  12. I stand in front of the mirror not because I'm conceited but because I wish so hard to be able to see a change in myself that I've grown blind too.
  13. They say that if you wish upon a star hard enough you can jinx yourself
  14. I think I jinxed myself.
  15. My body hurts. All over. Because I lie in bed too often, afraid to get up and face the world.
  16. I live in black hole sheets but I no longer claw my way out for the temptation of food. Instead I get out to drink my daily body weight of appetite suppressant caffeine before I sweat off the endless calories. Hoping I can change the image of myself I've become accustomed to.
  17. I still look in the mirror with broken eyes because nothing's changed.
  18. I woke up today. Sadly.
  19. I'm tired now. Tired of fighting for an image of a girl that's been airbrushed in my mind; stretched and painted and slimmed.
  20. I'm afraid of tomorrow.
  21. I paint a smile on my face and unless I told you otherwise you'd think it was genuine.
  22. I'm good at being fake. Fake happy. Fake confident. Fake me.
  23. I dress in those clothes that are bound to turn heads to mask that utter fear I have in myself. Who needs to see the real me anyways.
  24. I woke up today...
Comments & reviews · 3
Note: You are not logged in, but you can still leave a comment or review. Before it shows up, a moderator will need to approve your comment (this is only a safeguard against spambots). Leave your email if you would like to be notified when your message is approved.

User avatar
AlyTheBookworm
Comment

I love it.

Bedsheets are like black holes, and my whole body is sore, and I look into the mirror over and over again hoping what I see will change the longer I stare at it. I'm good at smiling. I feel fake. I'm hungry, but can't make myself move, and after a few hours the hunger goes away.

Thank you for writing this- I've wanted to write down how I feel for a while, but you did it for me and it's crazy how relatable it is. :)

User avatar
Radrook
Review
Radrook wrote a review · Wed Jun 13, 2018 1:43 am

Radrook here a once again to offer some suggestions.
Apologies if i offend. It isn’t my intention.
Please feel full free to cast aside all things you deem not helpful.
But if you do be sure its true by being extra careful.

That having been said:

Thanks for sharing this poem about a girl who is depressed because of her physical appearance and wishes to change it. I like how you don’t immediately tell us directly that the woman is obese but merely hint at it and let us reach our own conclusion by providing hints such as difficulty in getting out of bed and frequent trips to the fridge which is typical of persons who are suffering from morbid obesity. The black hole compared to the sheets to indicate just how strongly gravity is keeping her there is a great touch. I also like the way that the poem conveys the very sad mood of the protagonist. I could almost feel the desperation and the strong need to take off all that weight.

At first, I was put off by the numbering and wondered why. But then I realized that is exactly what some persons in that situation might do-number the things that are problematical and even repeat them mindlessly under the duress of depression. I like how the ending dovetails with the intro and middle part via repeating the expression: “I woke up today!”

Some of the many expressions i liked:

. . . . like rusty gears in need of a good oiling.

. . . . my sheets are black holes

. . . . with broken eyes . . . .

. . . . my endless cage.

I paint a smile on my face . . . .



Suggestions

I hate myself[,] or at least the perception of myself that I see in the mirror every day[.]

I paint a smile on my face[,] and unless I told you otherwise[,] you'd think it was genuine.

I live in black hole sheets but I no longer . . . .
[I live in black hole sheets[,] but I no longer . . . .]

. . . .from the first conscience breath . . . .
[ . . . .from the first conscious breath . . . .]

did God just make me blind or am I truly that size.
[D]id God just make me blind or am I truly that size[?]

I'm fat. fat. fat.
[I'm fat, fat, fat.]
[I'm fat! fat! fat!]

"I've become accustomed to."

The rest of the poem demonstrates that the speaker has not become accustomed to her image of being fat. So the word “accustomed” might not be the right word here.

WHY CAN'T I BE PERFECT TOO.
[WHY CAN'T I BE PERFECT TOO[?]

Who needs to see the real me anyways.
Who needs to see the real me anyways[?]


Wow! That was a very interesting read! Your first time? Very impressive!

Thank you, I'm glad for the help. About the numbering, it's written as a spoken word poem and yes they kinda number the problems but they are also supposed to keep the flow. And what for you mean by "first time?"

Hello! Scar here!

To start with, it’s just my opinion but the title seems oddly long. I also spot some coma issues with your prepositions. I know poetry has many different rules when it comes to grammar but some of the sentences sound all jumbled together. One of your lines says, (I haven’t figured out how to quote...)

“Fake happy. Fake confident. Fake me”

If it were my poem I would change “confident” to confidence. But it’s not my poem, so do as you wish :)

I really like the topic of this poem because a lot of people can relate to it. Poetry and just writing in general is one of the many ways people going through tough times can convey their emotions.

Please....feel free to ignore anything here. Keep on writing!

For future reference, you can quote works by using

Something from the text
!

[quote] then [quote] with a slash in front of the second quote.



Sometimes my life just sounds like surrealistic fiction being sold on clearance at the book store.
— J. G. Hammersmith