This is a stunning piece and absolutely beautifully written. There are so many wonderful lines sprinkled throughout this, but I think my favourite is ....."as a mosquito yearning for sweet crimson claret."
Alas, I have not enough time to comment fully, yet. However, this poem has captivated me. I will return to comment in depth...
Okay, it's been a long wet day. Let's have another look...
The birds once sung in harmony,
lying in a field of flowerbeds where we were dreamers,
Okay, birds who have lost their tune. A sad note indeed to spring from.
...Not sure if you mean the birds are lying in flowerbeds of dreams? Intriguing.
believers in l'amour vrai.
The choice of the French phrase is a lovely touch. Believers in true love.
Unified the same way swans are when in love,
Swan's are known for mating for life. It id said in myth that a swan will only sing when they are dying. That makes you think doesn't it?
but now only vultures peck the debris of memories.
Placing Swans next to vulture successfully creates a harrowing image. Pecking debris of memories. Degrading memories show to me a passage of time creating a distant memory.
Harmonizing the insanity echoing in my mentality,
Lots of rhyme and alliteration in this line. I get from this a kind of taming of insanity by the use of poetry. Cathartic writing, maybe?
multiplying my asininity, failing day by day.
Inadequate to comprehend
We do like to beat ourselves up when we're already feeling awful.
ignored her requests, a vexation of ignorance that's me.
Internal dialogue. Berating yourself for such foolish behavior - over analysing each and every moment until it feels a mountain of mistakes.
Eyes sewn shut, ears corked,
Like eyes wide shut, but a nice twist - just add thread. I laughed at the image of shoving corks in each ear - what did you say?
my hands possessed;
these idle hands never cease to lull the cyber chatter.
Nice way to describe being out of control and unable to stop a behavior that will only bring grief - for both of you!
How pathetic is it I can't stop them from coming to a grinding halt?
Miffed? Do you want the hands to stop or not?
I've become a constant qualm,
that unrelenting turmoil that just keeps niggling - won't let you sleep.
a thorn in her side.
The only cure is her. The only thing you need is her. The only thought is her. How can your obsession not be overpowering - a thorn indeed!
Overbearing in my affection, a storm cloud hurricane of destruction;
What started as a breeze, turns into a strong wind and then here, your hurricane of destruction. This is a whole lot of emotion!
silent tears come into sight, flooding out of her chestnut chocolate eyes
The image of her eyes are vivid - the stifled tears are so sad.
cascading against her olive cheeks weeping in despair as the river overflows.
Cascading like an endless waterfall weathering the beautiful olive cheeks.
She suffocates because of me,
metaphorically trapped in an hourglass, turned upside down unable to breathe.
Great metaphor. Being trapped in an hourglass in full view of anyone and everyone. Trapped and unable to grieve privately.
Exhaling air, inhaling a sort of ecru sand corroded in its texture, capacity batting her lungs all because of me.
Seeing her struggle due to such intense behavior and emotion. Like breathing sand and wearing away lungs - the essence of every breath.
Where did things go wrong?
A good question and one this reader is curious to find out the answer.
My fragile heart is on her sleeve splintering, bleeding, and I'm pleading.
A heart that is broken, but more so, this heart, your heart is splintering, fragmenting - soon to become dust if it is not saved.
I may be chutzpah but my paucity of respect for her space is gadfly as a mosquito yearning for sweet crimson claret.
Lots of juicy words here - having little respect due to being over confidence is common. We think we know best and so go ahead and walk into brick walls. A gadfly - I take it this is you wanting to drink her blood - again thinking of you and not her.
Disgusted, embarrassed, and ashamed by my actions
I've dug my own grave with each impetuous word escaping from my mouth as my tongue lashes out;
My gran used to say: engage your brain before speaking. It was good advice, but like all good advice we need to learn the hard way.
hastily trying to recapture and wolf down the word vomit like alphabet soup
Great line, wanting to unsay the word (vomit) that will hurt, letter by letter. That is regret, regretting each letter of each word.
but it's always too late and now I must lay in this shameful state
burying myself inside this grave.
'always too late' this shows that this is not one mistake, but a relationship full of them. No wonder this is an epic piece!
I'm giving this my everything
but my foot needs to come off the gas, this isn't speed racer alas
I've been locked on the finish line for far too long.
Acting like a kamikaze pilot anticipating the crash,
this self-destruction must surcease.
Like a junkie who knows what he is doing is wrong, he cannot stop. His family, his loved ones are on the same ride - ride of destruction.
I've got to let go, give her the space to flourish on her own.
Your head tells you the right thing to do is free her. Your heart can't find the strength to be without her.
It doesn't mean we'll never be unless I continue to torture her psychology;
it's a sense of hysteria, a bone chilling dilemma she's in.
Emotions running high - anger and tears.
I will take my guilt-ridden bow out of her life.
Apologies can't suffice due to the interminable round-the-clock asphyxiating questions,
bombarding her like vicious carnivores stalking their prey.
I am sorry. But is sorry enough, does sorry mean sorry when the words still spew?
This isn't a game,
it's a life!
I'm truly sorry and shamefaced.
Forgetting we all need time alone to sprout, thrive, and grow.
I'll let her escape, to run, to finally be free,
no more this anchor called 'Justin' will weigh her down;
the last thing I want is her to drown.
An anchor called Justin releases his securing links and promises to walk off.
I'll always believe we can make it,
I'll fight forevermore from a distance.
The question is: Can you give her and yourself the space you both need? Fight by finding peace one step at a time.
Don't give up on me, don't give up on us, don't give up on love,
Pleading for a lasting connection...
or the universal twin flame contract agreed upon from up above.
I'll keep dreaming and praying
we'll connect again in this life or the next,
a bona fide love eternal and true,
my heart and the key given to her.
Till the sun sets in the east and rises in the west she'll have all of me.
For you Emma,
these butterflies will never die.
This is so sad. The same butterflies felt in the first throws of love are now flying forever reminding you both of the height o
f love, the summer of love, the love that soured high and burnt like Icarus .
This poem and the emotion contained is emotion I can relate to. Whether you make it work or not with this girl you will always remember her and how you felt. The highs and the lows.
Beautiful comment my friend! This brought a tear to my eye and a smile to my face. I loved how to spelled out every emotion and how your interpreted each word and stanza. Thank you I will be sure to praise your comment and hope it gets approved.
It may be long, and I was a little unsure at the start if I would commit to reading it through until the end, but once I started I couldn't end the story until the end. The narration is good and makes the reader want to read on to find out more, I think you have put in so much of your honest feelings here and the poem feels realistic so we can relate to it whilst reading it. I am glad I read it all.
I've become a constant qualm,
a thorn in her side.
Overbearing in my affection, a storm cloud hurricane of destruction;
- This bit really jumped at me, I think it is so powerful to feel like you have had this impact on someone when it is clearly not the one you wanted to make, and did not intend to make. The hurricane is such a strong metaphor to use here, showing exactly what you feel you have caused.
The hour glass is also a great metaphor for expressing that feeling of them being trapped. Again there is a lot of guilt in the tone, responsibility for the cause of this.
- burying myself inside this grave.
This whole stanza was filled with regret of your actions, whatever they may be, but this last line really wraps up just how much you regret it, like you don't feel there is ever a way to forgive yourself, or let it go.
The ending of the poem is really personal and has a slightly more hopeful tone for the future, it is like you know you can't give up and need to fight this through.
I think it is interesting that this poem could be about someone else, or, it could be about yourself, and how you have betrayed yourself. It works both ways.
Really great use of metaphors, especially the vultures and animals with their preys, really vivid imagery throughout.
2 years ago
Wowow! This is the type of poem that just lets you breath when you are writing it. This may be long but it says so much of the tribute to this person named Emma. How much you love her it seems. And the distance between you two is strong but I believe what you are saying here is you are letting this person go but you are wanting to keep your heart open to reconnect whether it be in this life or next. The details you go into to describe how you feel is nothing short of hypnotic. :) beautiful write
Compelling and emotional the narrative style draws you in and keeps you reading until the end. It may look long at first glance and this may put some readers off but once you have started you get swept along and reach the end before you have realised it.
Your use of metaphors is brilliant and it feels as if it has come straight from the heart.
I agree with saffie, There is so much you can say about this poem, The obvious is, this seems to filled with metaphors and feelings about a person who has their heart broken and knowing your story I know that this is true. Love does come and go though, but I know you were so in love with this person, and this poem seems to let your feelings out and it seems like you feel like it is your fault. But of course it is not your fault at all, I also agree with saffie, though it is long it makes an impact on the reader and makes the main character out to be saved, and you feel guilty about how much they have gone through to get to this point in their life. I really love your title too, Butterflies always appear when you fall in love even if it is not for the first time. Overall this poem does a great job in detailing the emotions of love and how you feel when good love can go bad. 5/5
It was quite long and since I am finally giving up on poetry because it seems to allude me, I read this poem (story in my eyes) from start to end and it hurt at times because it's quite simply put in two lines:
"She's hurting because of me, so I need to set her free.
This is love not war so we'll see each other again one day."
If I'm wrong do correct me. There were some phrases I had to Google up since I only speak in Spanish and English not French or another language but that was my fault. This is may sound really mean but it could've been put more simply, I sometimes don't like it when people give me a story that could be done in 5 sentences easily, but I can understand where you are coming from a broken heart will often times make anyone drag out what they truly feel inside and others have to read between the lines to get to the purpose.
I nominated this poem not because I hated it for being too long but because this is a story that's really relatable to some people others will wonder why I nominated this poem but I know I choose one that has a story, who's foundation was made solid and then made a home for these words to rest in good job!
A very excellent writing...it'd be just as great if this Emma would be here ti read as well...It was a quite a little drag on my end for I hadn't known some of the vocabularies either ways its a breathtaking piece and I've come to take hold of some new vocabularies