The lines on her wrist drip with new words As tongues of true poets caress the wounds. She finds herself unable to stop, Cutting ever deeper through the flesh of memories.
A rush of red regret as she hacks into A vein of trauma and forgotten screams.
Her skin white with fear as she remembers the fist
It's finished now (:
As always, constructive criticism is always welcome, even if it's just over something like layout. I want to become a better writer (:
Thanks for reading (: ♥
My Review
Would you like to review this Poem? Login | Register
An interesting take on a cutting poem. I personally think cutting is a thing people should talk about more, because it's too taboo, and generally means the person doing it is asking for help. The act of cutting is a strange thing, The only way of expressing inner pain, for those who do it, is do create a physical pain for people to see. And the healing of the physical pain sends the message that the emotional pain could heal as well. (Sorry, my brother and best friend used to cut, one of them when I was in elementary school. I learned a bit about the psychology behind it). But I'm glad this kind of digressed from that theme, turning the act of writing into a form of cutting, so that the words are the spilling of the subject's blood, rather than simply taking a knife to the skin. I didn't take this as a cutting of the body, because of the writing in it, but a cutting of the soul.
As for the layout, I was wondering why you formatted it the way you did. The way I saw it (with the line "She snaps back from the nightmares") I thought perhaps it was a tonal shift, from the kind of nightmarish quality of the first two stanzas to the cold reality of wherever the speaker is, staring at the page in front of her. A blank page is like a symbol of a new start, with her snapping back from her memories to the present, yet in the end she went back to what she had been dreaming about.
That's just my interpretation of this poem. Not the literal cutting, but the use of the cutting as a metaphor. I liked this poem a lot, just as I like all of your work. I actually like your poetry more than your songs. The reading it, at least, since I've never heard your songs. Keep writing and thanks for the RR.
An interesting take on a cutting poem. I personally think cutting is a thing people should talk about more, because it's too taboo, and generally means the person doing it is asking for help. The act of cutting is a strange thing, The only way of expressing inner pain, for those who do it, is do create a physical pain for people to see. And the healing of the physical pain sends the message that the emotional pain could heal as well. (Sorry, my brother and best friend used to cut, one of them when I was in elementary school. I learned a bit about the psychology behind it). But I'm glad this kind of digressed from that theme, turning the act of writing into a form of cutting, so that the words are the spilling of the subject's blood, rather than simply taking a knife to the skin. I didn't take this as a cutting of the body, because of the writing in it, but a cutting of the soul.
As for the layout, I was wondering why you formatted it the way you did. The way I saw it (with the line "She snaps back from the nightmares") I thought perhaps it was a tonal shift, from the kind of nightmarish quality of the first two stanzas to the cold reality of wherever the speaker is, staring at the page in front of her. A blank page is like a symbol of a new start, with her snapping back from her memories to the present, yet in the end she went back to what she had been dreaming about.
That's just my interpretation of this poem. Not the literal cutting, but the use of the cutting as a metaphor. I liked this poem a lot, just as I like all of your work. I actually like your poetry more than your songs. The reading it, at least, since I've never heard your songs. Keep writing and thanks for the RR.
I understand the pain that draws people to cut, but it is so counterproductive. However, for the poem, It carries a ghostly melancholy beauty. Such pain
This is like so many nightmares I have often about my childhood, that and the horrid flashbacks I have constantly. It hurts, and often times I have opened the Vein of regrets. This poem really speaks to me, I love the way she conforms to writing, like I am trying to do now, instead of opening up in other more deadly ways. This is Awesome Thanks for sharing it :)
Very well written.. the subject is a bit taboo, no one wants to care why cutters cut.. they just see it as a phaze or fad.. no one knows the true numbness and pain behind a cutter's next cut. Excellent job!
My Circuitboard City Of Yellow And Black, United Kingdom
About
My poems make little sense because my thoughts make little sense because my life makes little sense.
I never class myself as a writer, 'cause I'm not one. I'm just some kid in the corner putting my n.. more..