She still functioned, still moved.
but she wasn't the same.
She was different.
She was a fighter,
and you knew that.
She had a mind of her own,
you knew that,
you said
that
was
what
you
loved
about
her.
Christabel died the day she fell in love with you.
She lost her identity.
She changed.
You
say
you
love
her,
at
the
very
least
showed
(which is
probably
worse?
for
actions
speak
louder
than mere
words.)
She seemed to become you,
a part of you.
But you weren't a part of her,
you were still you.
Christabel died the day she fell in love with you.
and I died --
the day I fell in love with you.
Author notes
Perhaps favorite isn't the word for this piece. Personal is more apt. This poem is very personal, and it's not just because I actually used my own name in the poem. Yes, Christabel's my name, and so no, I'm not copying Samuel Coleridge.
I chose this poem because it's so...me. This is me right now. Perhaps, as a friend said, it's a bit harsh, but still she agreed. I'm trying to save myself now, but still...with everything that's happened, that's happening, and what may happen...
A contest entry
- personal favorite by Virgoan.
2000 points, ended June 9, 2008, 64 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
i like the idea and the feel of this piece...honestly.
i know that this will be a tighter piece with tweaking here and there. I suggest you fix the format in how you presented the piece.
For instance, the last few lines may be like this:
Christabel died the day she fell in love with you,
and I died --
the day I fell in love with you.
line break will make your piece stronger. I hope I was able to be help you. I like to make this piece more than its simplicity. IM me for your approval.
Keep sharing your gift
HENSLEY

-
-
Okay.
I actually wrote this on a rich text editor, on Multiply, so there are several words in italics and bolded which don't show up here since I'm a free member.
But I like your suggestion on the last line...I'll use it. Thanks.
-

