by Poet on the Piano May 3, 2016
category :
Sadness, depression /
other
The lies we tell ourselves are toxic. And by toxic, I mean lonely and reckless midnight pursuits. Carcinogens you mix into your everyday activities. Poison you've trained yourself to accept without a second guess. Sometimes, I wish the police would stalk and pull over my self-destructive mind and arrest me, chain me up so I would do no more harm. You say I'm not guilty, I say I'm nothing but. These regrets gag me until I'm praying on beads of hope to be saved. Yet I still cycle through the same bullshit. There is no one more at fault than me. |
by Darren
Judges comment |
by Em
A very vivid image you paint here. |
by Britt
Love you! |
And back at you! |
by Britt
I've read this twice now and I keep thinking about the woman at the well.. I don't really know how else to apply your message to hers, but you know the story, so I'm sure you can see my correlation. |
Means more than words... thank you Britt<3 |
There was something very drawing about how you used point of view in this writing.You began the poem with "we", asking me to recall where and when I have found myself in this situation you are painting, a universal and personal human experience. Then you move a step closer into your own world in this mixed monologue that responds to your own thoughts and to words of others. Then, after baring our soul of your personal experience, you bring it back to the "we" again, tying your experience with mine, because you are writing of things we all do. |