Figs

there are wasps in my lungs,

wings in my maw,

and down my back

out of my spine are leaping stings.

I see everything a thousand times

up and down

round and round

in the dark my eyes can finally rest.

I don´t want to see this volatile world,

I don`t belong,

but I am part of this race

and nobody asks.

I taste like sugar and red,

so sweet

and down your lips,

so dripping wet.

you don`t see me, what lies in my guts,

what I hid so well

under purple skin and enticing smell

before your tongue tells.

I was never who you thought I was.

Reviews

[LazerRays]

I have felt this way before, circumstances turn me into survival mode and often I feel as if I am an outcast, as if I'm the only one that sees the world past its facade. It sucks. It f*****g hurts and then you sit there questioning am I the crazy one in this docile world. Are they? Why am I up all night

[lov]

I feel this so much. I am glad my words reached you

[JayG]

Well, you did ask...

This is you talking about what's meaningful to you, in terms that make perfect sense to you, because you have intent guiding your understanding.

But what's in it for a reader? Look at the words as the reader must, as-they-read, because we can't retroactively remove confusion.

• there are wasps in my lungs

Is that an expression, like saying I have ants in my pants? Because if not, to a reader who just arrived, the words are meaningless as-they're-read. And, you never clarify.

Instead, you say things that have as little meaning as that, line after line. When, for example, you say, "out of my spine are leaping stings." What in the hell are leaping strings?" All the strings I've known just lay there till someone moves them.

The thing to remember is that our intent doesn't make it to the page, so, we must edit as a reader, knowing only what they know. And we must never forget that while we have context, the reader has only the context we supply or evoke. And the only word meaning they have is what's suggested based on THEIR life-experience, not our intent,

[jacob erin-cilberto]

especially if they are red wasps, they can be so mean and attack.

when we are being eaten up by something inside, the stings are worse than any Sylvia Plath's bees could have given her.
Inner pain is like being attacked by the entire hive.
j.