Tell me what to do
When there just is no more beauty in the world
And i am forced to watch from the outside
Smiling faces with a painted frown
-isn't that the opposite?
What a cruel and insane world this is.
SO hold me down
And thrust your way in -
Don't ask. Don't stop to breathe,
or think
Or listen.
Don't wait to realise that it hurts
It hurts
IT HURTS ME. - still, when did you care.
How does it feel to reach that warmth?
And find it dry.
At least let me see out of the window.
The ceiling here is crawling with disgust
And dust -
Dust is falling in my mouth and choking me.
That smell, rising up
And mingling with the suffocating silence.
This cannot go on.
Picture anything - anything at all.
The streetlamps, yellow orange light
peeping through the curtains
- without the courage to pull you off.
I remember being 10 or so
And falling asleep with the curtains open, dappled
Orange light on my face.
Now, it's trapped in tears
And smears of black.
You are too heavy.
My lungs and flat and my head
Is caught against the bed head, banging
thumping, rhythmically thudding.
But never losing consciousness.
Until its over, and i am covered
head to toe in your disgusting, yellow
sweat, blood on my sheets.
There was a fault in my design.
Now how can I ever be beautiful?
How?
No matter how i wash, I can't get you off me.
I cannot wash off these hand prints.
Everywhere I turn, is you
Pretending to cry
Pretending to need air.
Pretending that your world has fallen apart.
Never will you know how the world feels without a floor.
Just 4, bright, white walls.
With holes in.
Just what will you do?
When they find the body, all blue.
Where the fuck did this obsession with death come from?
Is this necrophilia?
I'm undecided if I'm still alive
And still you fuck me
fuck me up, and mess with my head.
Is this what you like?
When will you stop playing stupid
Childish games?
And just what right do YOU have
To make me feel worthless.
And ugly.
And over?
I am not keeping you here.
If you are over the past, then you can walk out.
But you are always coming back.
Do you have nothing else?
Is torture some means of revenge
I hope it kills you to know,
you were nothing
ever.
When we die, do you think our crimes haunt us?
God knows what will happen to me.
I will lose my soul.
For whatever I am being punished for.
But you?
You'll be covered in my blood.
And wishing you hasn't tried to cut my tongue out.
Inside my head, there is still a voice.
And the truth will out.
Do not mistake my cries for lust
They are agony.
The agony of an eternity
of myself.
Now close the curtains,
and let me sleep through the torment.
While I try not to kill you in my sleep.
Author notes
some literal
some metaphorical.
some not about a man.
Written May 21st, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Survivors Step Forward! Contest! I need more entries! by Rainydaywoman.
300 points, ended June 12, 2006, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 18 of 18
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I like the stories within this poem, deep and involving. Free verse is sometimes very hard for me to decide what the writer is wanting to say, but this to me was quite clear. I liked the way you displayed the text to appeal to the eyes and change "tones". I read into it well. This is quite a strong piece of art, and I love the picture you chose. You are a Survivor! ~ Rainy
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Very Good
I never read this kind of writing, but I became caught in the words.
If it is true, I am sorry. Sorry we share the world with Barbarians.
Rick.
PS the writing was very good -
Wow a deep and heartfelt poem. Just wow, I never read anything like this before and I love this poem. So dark and deep. Very good.
Fairy*
do you want to be in my AP family? -
thankyou so very much
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At least let me see out of the window.
The ceiling here is crawling with disgust
And dust -
Dust is falling in my mouth and choking me.
excellent work
especially this set of lines
excellent work throughout
i loved it -
Hey han!
I know who most of this is about - you're right to be angry. I love the line 'I cannot wash off these hand prints' - you know I can kind of relate to that, in fact I love that line so much that I don't think I'll do it any justice if I try to describe why. And also 'But never losing consciousness' - I thought you were hinting at unconciousness being better, like a kind of release because you wouldn't have to endure it any more. Very very good. Oh, and I like the way you put bits of it in different fonts, I think it helps the reader to see how you would say it.
Love you xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx -
in my "opinion" yours is just that. opinion.
i can never figure out, why if ppl can't say anything nice they bother to say anything at all.
i put you on my favorites. remind me to kick you when you're down.
thank you have a nice day.
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yes...quite clearly a genius.
Edited on May 21, 11:34 because 'coz some people are anal'. -
no shit sherlock and e.e. cummings WAS pathetic, which is why I said crappy...have a good day and stop insulting my intelligence, for I am a genius...so please don't bother lecturing me with useless knowledge that I already know.
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also, the use of the word "crappy" in a literary comment tends to render it pathetic
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not everytime a poet writes a poem are they attempting to write something brand new and exciting. on occation, they are attempting to write somthing that a whole group of people can relate to and find understanding in, and just simply get their feelings on the page.
i apreciate that this may not be to your liking, but this poems purpose was not inteded to be ground breaking in its content -
i'm glad that you took your own interpretation from the poem - i think that is what poetry is about.
thankyou so much for reading and taking the time to comment. -
EXACTLY millions of other people do it which is precisely why I want to see something new and interesting instead of crappy visual eye candy illusions like E.e. cummings (suckiest poet that ever lived) created.
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the repitition of a word is designed to highlight it. I think that many poets use such a method.
a typo is very easily fixed and so therefore does not effect the context of the work.
your opinion is valid, but i work on both a visual and contextual level. therefore, i write in bold and italics because it is a visual representation of what is on the page - randomisation and a stream of conciousness. that you do not enjoy a modernist approach does not mean that what is written is meaningless or in need of "help" from the visual technique.
again, it is unfair to criticise a poem purely on the grounds of its visual presentation.
also, note the fact it is listed as 'persona;' - if you have read this before, it is probably because it is a subject on which many people feel the need to talk about. afterall, writing things down is healing.
i apreaciate your opinion, and am sorry that you did not enjoy the poem. however, i think the comment you made lost a lot of potency given its patronising tone. i'm sure this was not intended, and so perhaps you need to look at the way you say things.
thankyou for stopping by. -
Touching
whoa.. im new to this but darn..., i like the way u talked about the curtains, in my opinion i see that like stages and i like that kind of poetry ^-^, although this .. well it can make someone fell bad about his or her past mistakes in life, like a purgatory or something... but well.. that's just me... ^-^ -
boring and dull...I have heard it a thousand
A big mistake here. In the first line you say "do do" instead of "to do" I don't like how you said dust twice in the same line either. You had already said the word dust so I don't see the pointof repeating it, it is redundant. The same goes with "hurt" Right after you said hurt you said it again. Also in my opinion if you have to write in bold, italics, underline to express your feelings in a visable way simply to create eye candy then it is not true talent. A true poet paints his visions with his words and not in the way he makes his words look. For that is merely an illusion. Not the truth. Plus it was hard to read because of the blood red background with the black letters. It would have been easier on the eye if the font was colored yellow. I didn't even want to finish reading this poem because it was stressful on the eyes and it didn't entertain me at all. I hope you keep trying though ~TL -
wow. this is a very intrueging piece. it reminds me of some poetry I wrote i the beggining of the year in 2005. This is deep, and seems to have a feeling of bloodlust. I realy enjoyed me. Yet, part of me wants to get of this page right now. It makes me think, I like the part when you said
"Just what will you do?
When they find the body, all blue.
Where the bunny did this obsession with death come from?
Is this necrophilia?
I'm undecided if I'm still alive"
I can't help but look forward to finding more of your poetry.
write on!
shadowed -
honestly. im not sure what to say to this. i dont think it gets anymore point blank and in your face than this. literal, metaphorical whatever it was sincerly disturbing. ive known you for a long time, youve never spoken to me of indidents like this, not that i'd expect you too. we've spoke on depression and things... and sometimes, if not all the time. and i have to refer back to my Empathy poem, if saying "i love you" was only enough to heal someones pain.
i can teel you this though, for all the darkness, all the pain all the ugliness in the world. my world. when i look out my window i see beautiful ppl like you, who have been my friend for so long. i see pink roses.
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