There may be some specific memory or feeling that brought words to you but they speak widely and clearly of the destructiveness and power of words. Your poem seems to talk about words and struggles in your own head but whether realized or not they may be echoes from someone else’s cruelty. I didn't have a childhood as bad as some but I was abused with words that I am still unconsciously trying to disprove.
Isn't it funny how we adopt, embrace and hang onto things said in cruelty and how self punishment can perpetuate them?
I like it.
Maybe try letting some aggresion out
start a poem with "spit out your venom"
I like that line. See where it takes you. I am interested to see:)
This is very interesting. It feels as though you're expressing the pain we cause ourselves by our own internal words and you're talking about how, through this, we end up perpetuating the pain by 'spitting out our venom' - by attacking others with the same harsh words with which we attack ourselves. I find this to be surprisingly true - very often, if not always, the things we judge and insult in others are the things we judge and insult in ourselves... and vice versa.
Taking this idea deeper, I find that the things we judge in ourselves are very often the things we fear others will judge and criticize. Very often, our self-inflicted insults are really the echoes of the real or imagined insults of others.
This starts looking like a vicious circle of insult and judgement, and in part, this may be why there is so much hatred in our world. Since suppressing our own self-inflicted insults is obviously not an option for breaking the cycle (that would simply make us more venomous to ourselves and to others, only serving to delay and heighten the damage), there really is only one option if we are to end this cycle of pain - accept ourselves.
The turmoil within... -that "rage" is always a struggle for us to deal with... we are human, after all... - It's best to release it in a productive way, and you have!- This piece has great Depth. Great Write!
There may be some specific memory or feeling that brought words to you but they speak widely and clearly of the destructiveness and power of words. Your poem seems to talk about words and struggles in your own head but whether realized or not they may be echoes from someone else’s cruelty. I didn't have a childhood as bad as some but I was abused with words that I am still unconsciously trying to disprove.
Isn't it funny how we adopt, embrace and hang onto things said in cruelty and how self punishment can perpetuate them?
My name is Anna Rose...
what can I say about myself?
I'm 20 learning to live on my own, trying to escape from a dark part of my life. Been writing my heart since I was able to write. I write whate.. more..