Your Mail Still Comes Here and I Don't Have the Courage to Change That.

i feel now like someone's shadow that is suddenly missing its body.

i hung up my hat for the last time on the far wall
the same day you hung yourself from the rafters of the top floor.
i don't want to wake up right now.

i don't think i can wake up right now.

it was the first bath i had taken alone in three years
and the water felt cold, like cold hands running over me.
i'm still not clean enough.

i'll never be clean enough.

the whole day went by
and it was dark all day long, all year long.
i don't want to lose you.

i'm not ready to lose you.

Reviews

[Girl Friday (Sarah W.)]

So very touching, moving and tragic at the same time. I truly like the concept of this...as poets we must speak our hearts, and in this it seems you have done that. I like the idea of "getting clean" and not being able to "get clean enough", because that speaks volumes as a metaphor for situations such as these. Actually, the entire piece is a metaphor of sorts, though quite literal as well.

My only technical suggestions would be to not use so much word repetition... "the whole day went by/and it was dark all day long, all year long."--here I would have just lost the "day" in the second line and went with "it was dark all these hours (maybe a different word), all year long". I don't know, play with it a little, but that was the only tiny little issue that I had. Otherwise, fantastic write!

[ChemicalMadness]

Pure emotion. There's nothing to give, as nothing received would reach the places intended. Your words are a prescription bottle overflowing....spill them over as many pages as you can....never lose the words...they'll run and smear themselves and make no sense and all the sense....but they will heal you if you let them....

CM

[That_Girl]

Well this is sad... first three lines are incredible though. Actually, the entire thing is pretty damn good. Depressing as hell though.

[Francis Danger]

ha. you just described the my life from 2007 to 2008. thanks for the review. good art, good writing or writing and art that hopes one day to be good is best when it allows us to work out love, our grief, our happiness, our sadness or sexual desire. that's when i think a work is really something, when you can pick it up and read or look at it and feel the exact way the creator felt when he had no choice but to create it.