There sits an empty shell of a girl, breathing hopelessly. She occupies space, but is a total waste, of everything. She has all of the resources, luxuries, and privileges imaginable, but she throws them all away. Her life seems perfect. Why wouldn’t it be?
Maybe someone else in her place would be fine, but she is not. She is a weak and pathetic creature, leeching off of the goodwill of those who have the misfortune of surrounding her. “People are so easy to manipulate,” she says, so she does.
She manipulates, and creates, and destroys. She is toxic, a mess, a joke. She is vile, and needs to be set on fire, to be absolved.
She is an attractive, humorous lost cause. She is a train-wreck, headed straight for hell. Go ahead and try to look away; I bet you cannot.
You've somehow managed to combine the qualities of being pitiful yet vile all at the same time in this brilliant poem. Well done! It's sad, isn't it, that such superficial people can be found so easily all around us? You've completely mastered the flow and ebb of the piece, and I particularly enjoyed the last two lines, because of the sheer irony when you know all of that about her and yet can't look away. There's something just fatally attractive about these empty shells, as you call them, that one can't help but be lured in by a sense of unquenchable curiosity. Good job! (and feel free to let me know I've gotten it all wrong in my reading of this)
Fantastic piece. The sorrowful tension and seemingly self-spite are utterly brilliant the way you've worded them. And to agree with Holly, I enjoyed the last stanza. Thank you for the great read.
A very dark tale but so powerful and dark. You reap so much emotion and yet the narrator seems dark and dismal. I was her once, so I find this well writ and superbly done!
So emotional; angry, sad, sarcastic, daring. An interesting idea that this girl is not the fit for . . . a full and easy life. That she is like the accident on the side of the road, no matter how ghastly it is, society is fascinated by this because she has all the world at her fingertips and yet . . . Sad, truly, but I know it well.
~Quate
You've somehow managed to combine the qualities of being pitiful yet vile all at the same time in this brilliant poem. Well done! It's sad, isn't it, that such superficial people can be found so easily all around us? You've completely mastered the flow and ebb of the piece, and I particularly enjoyed the last two lines, because of the sheer irony when you know all of that about her and yet can't look away. There's something just fatally attractive about these empty shells, as you call them, that one can't help but be lured in by a sense of unquenchable curiosity. Good job! (and feel free to let me know I've gotten it all wrong in my reading of this)