-never, ever use the word "crimson" in a poem about suicide, death in general, cutting, or forlorn love. actually, just don't use it at all or do so sparingly, as it reeks of whiny teen girls with no problems at all.
-you are wearing a mask to hide your pain (OMG DID HUGH DAVIES LYK BRAKE UPP WIT U?"£!£"?132! SO SAD IT WUZ 3 DAIS OF TRU LUV
). unless you are nietzsche and you are writing "beyond good and evil," shut the bleeding fuck up about masks because it's not a profound or remotely good metaphor.-you dropped your heart and it is shattered glass, and it's soooo sad that he broke up with you and shattered your already piteously low self-esteem. why not step on said glass and exsanguinate like you whine about? even if you don’t die, the infection will be fun!
-you & your boyfriend are like romeo and juliet-- lyk, omg, so in luv!"£! congratulations on being infatuated and stupid, i suppose. it's a tale not about true and enduring love, but of infatuation and irrationality, which you would probably notice if you actually knew how to read. at least you have some inkling of what an allusion is, i guess.
-love is a rose. love is hate. now do me a favour and shut up about it unless you are karl menninger and you're writing "love against hate” (which i recommend reading, by the way).
-don’t attempt graphic erotica if you’ve never had sex; you’ll make yourself look stupid. also, if you are writing sexual stuff, putting “mmmmmmmm” to convey pleasure is hilariously bad. you’re a poet, right? why not, oh, DESCRIBE YOUR EMOTIONS?
-while we’re on the idea of sex, music as a metaphor for sex, while not terrible, is overdone.
-you are drowning in something, probably in pathetic, clingy feelings for some ugly pimpled juggalo you met in a trailer park because you're desperate, and he’s so cruel to not like you and your attention-whoring antics. iz soooo sad, amirite?
…and there are a whole lot more that i don’t care to think about right now.
“soon i will die
soon i will cry
i miss you so much kevin
you were everything to me
i miss the way you smile
i miss the way you laugh
i miss your infected penis
why won’t you take me back?”
there is a difference between poetry and a list. this is a list; i don’t know why you continually label it poetry. however much the emotion means to you, your “poem” lacks the craft that would make it an actual poem.
also, no one says crap like this:
“the pickled aura of bricks’ desire”
“crimson blood trickling from anger’s cabaret”
“in scintillating silence, serenity’s seers sigh”
such phrases are pretentious, and pretty much “big words” and alliteration don’t make a poem. there’s no meaning behind convoluted phrases of obscure possessive words you’ve stitched together to make it “sound nice.” it sounds like garbled shit in my mouth, to be honest.
may allah smite your shitty “poetry,”
endymion
Adding your comment:
But everything you say here is so true.
