November

Wonder why the words are caught in your throat,

if they are lying there, dying at all.

In a drowning night

when the time was right,

they float to the top and you don't remember at all.

When were you going to say and

did you even plan to feel?

I could have played this all for fake

and dreamt the damning words were real.

Were it so,

how'd I know?

Everything I think and feel

is tossed aside where I can't solidify,

can't put together,

can't heal.

Reviews

[NikkiR]

Hi, This poem is lovely and has wonderful sentiment. If I can suggest one thing though...
The line 'and dreamt the damning words into real.' didn't flow as well as the rest of the poem and I think it may be because of the end of the line, 'into real' doesn't necesarilly make sense. For that to work it would need to be 'into reality', unfortunately you then lose the rhyme scheme you have. Nothing else comes to mind at the moment but I will think on it and let you know.

[Ashley Amigoni]

Thanks! Problem is, I'm not really a fan of the word "reality." Can't say why and even so, I'm sure I have used it before elsewhere. I just thought of how to explain why the word is not in my favor but couldn't really place it. I guess because it is used to much and has lost any emotional weight when I read it.

But I do agree. In meaning, my line bears the brunt of what I wish to say but I can see where with others, it doesn't "flow" well or have that same pleasant harshness. So I believe I will change it to "and dreamt the damning words were real." It doesn't really say the same because I am no longer turning his/her words into something tangible and "real", but I am now only wishing. So my persona has lost his/her power, but it flows well now for others.