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With out permission


With my body full of needles, digging into me, so deep that when I try to take them cut, they only go deeper.
In the middle of my desert, to which I grown so accustomed, I'm here with permission to hate, because hating kills me; with out permission to feel, because all I feel is darkness.
Yet my biggest worry is that I'm unable to be my self, when in life the best therapy is that which allow us to be our self's.

The beauty of the world seems to be unable to conquer over the ugliness in my soul.
Your beauty hurts me because when I see my reflection in your eyes, I see...Darkness.
Your honesty enrages me, because every time I smile, I lie.
I dislike your tenderness, because I melt in the fear of losing, losing control of permitting me to be me. With every world and gentle touch, each needle penetrates to the depth of my darkness. Allowing light to which I'm not accustomed

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Comments


  • Lyndon gold member
    May 27, 2008

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    I am afraid

    this is a prose poem of a kind. It is not free verse. I support my colleague, Pamela, in her remarks. Lyndon.


  • Pamela A Lamppa silver member
    May 25, 2008

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    I would have liked some effective line breaks in this and punctuation at the end of your last line.

    Your first line - try to take them cut-- Maybe you meant try to take them they cut, or try to make them cut??

    I can't be certain.

    Yes, you mays wish to run a spell/grammar check on this and use some line breaks to make an effective free verse rather than paragraphs of prose.

    I think there is much depth to work with in your words:

    For example:

    "In the middle of my desert, to which I grown so accustomed, I'm here with permission to hate, because hating kills me; with out permission to feel, because all I feel is darkness.
    Yet my biggest worry is that I'm unable to be my self, when in life the best therapy is that which allow us to be our self's."

    May be more effective as:

    Within my familiar desert
    I have permission to hate
    hating kills me
    where permission to feel
    reveals only darkness.

    Where within this life
    can I find permission to be me?


    Just some scattered ideas jotted quickly be looking at your words.

    I will be back to take a look at this again if you wish to tweak some. I love the visuals in here and really think it can be worked into an even more effective piece.

    ~Pamela