Published April 20, 2007
I thought it would be boundless,
hopeless as my broken skin.
But I am mended. We are ended.
You cannot sew my lips with a fist
or slam them shut with your own,
and I know you see me dripping.
Nightly I would dream of bearing
your children and wearing
your thick cheap ring.
I was jittery, checking my watch.
Now my fingers find yours, and are still.
No longer do I collapse on your welcome mat,
nor vomit upon your shoulder.
And bleed? But what is that?
I am no longer vodka-chested,
with my tongue within your stomach,
and my deflated, purpled skin.
Nor wishing for a child so I can be new.
No more a concubine, hollow and narrow,
but plumped and lined,
as I drift with knowledge.
I would love to hear your theories.
But darling, there is no time.
written: Thursday 21st December 2006, 10:24pm.
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141,249 Literary Works • 674,330 Reviews
This is a very interesting poem. The one big issue I had with it was the excess of stops (periods, basically) that messed up what could have been a lovely flow. You might want to consider "loosening up" and connecting lines such as Stanza 1/Line 3 and Stanza 2/Lines 3, 4, and 5, etc. (Stanza 2/Line 8 is a good example of effective punctuation -- I wouldn't want to change that one!
)
There were also some lines that felt out of place, mainly:
Those two lines I was unclear about what you could possibly be referring to, and if it's not just me being dense, you might want to clear that up for the readers' sake.
Last two lines were superb.
I like this poem a whole lot. It defines the thoughts and feelings of many real people around the world. Good job.