word_eyes Posted October 4, 2005 Report Posted October 4, 2005 I am bleeding in my sleep grieving in my dreams screaming in my own insanity It certainly was an accident that devestated the containment of death in its own cynical chamber and deepened the sincerity of a sinner. It certainly is the reason why I'm kneeling at your grave. Captivated by a moment of youth that by the perserverance of time just won't swallow the past and let me be rekindling my sorrow, my regret, my solitude, my sanctuary. It replays in my head, that unforgiving night, how we used the music as our guide to sobering the hours and I let the moon be our map to security playing for our ages speeding for the adreniline forgetting to slow down we came across that bend of concrete that ungracefully claimed the life of you three drunken souls two survivors one in a wheel chair and me. And we disguised our guilt with the reassurance that it could have been any one of us we lay in our lies, masking the truth, referring to the fact that we collaborated and fabricated a sequence of events and left your broken body on the side of the unlit road. We paniced, and no one trully knew between us, if you died in my arms or on the ground near the crumbling hill, we just knew that neither one of us wanted to take the blame, so we left you there, we were too young to be mudereres; we were too scared to tell anyone. We showed up at the funeral all dressed in black the next week, as your family came over to console our sympathetic hearts shaking our trembling hands, our sweaty palms. And it was all fine until I arrived at your casket and I noticed the friendship bracelet that I had made for you in the sixth grade and I thought, "What a friend I am," just feeding you to the darkness, handing you to the ruins, knowing that this was our final hour my best friend lay here; pale faced, blue lips And I accomplished my tainted goal by locking the truth between my shame and not saying a word. I couldn't even cry, the motion-less expression on your face suggested all too much for me and then my mind went blank and I could hardly feel the left side of my body surely numb and leaning to the right to keep myself from completely fainting and everyone in the spinning room circled me and began to look like you slowly fading but staring back at me as if they knew what I feared they'd find, caged in my brown eyes, our stories, and the truth. I wanted to strangle my own illusions. I wanted to cry, but my passive tears belittled my existance and began to play around with my suffering. And I was annoyed with everything even the thought of suicide could not comfort me. The silence began to manipulate the situation and I finally worked up the nerve to walk up to your mother who was trapped within her own reality; she would never see her child again only the heading of your stone and the moss that grew six feet from your bed. This was the only chance I would ever have to relieve my burdens I could hear the heavy breathing of my nervous accomplice as he trembled like a coward in the corner. I reached out my hand to her and again, I selfishly said nothing I just dropped your obituary at her feet. And it is today that I confess, at least to you if no one ese tell me that you understand, that I love you, and I miss you, and I never meant to hurt you, If an apology could bring you back to me, I would be sorry a million times. You do forgive me... Don't you?
Wyvern Posted October 8, 2005 Report Posted October 8, 2005 Very good poem, word eyes. :-) I thought that this piece had a very strong premise and emotional base behind it, and that this was shown through the strong impressions and imagery expressed within it. My favorite part of the poem was probably the fourth stanza, which I thought had excellent details and which was worded in a very concise and striking manner. I also really liked the manner that the narrator cannot bring himself to express his own guilt to the mother of the deceased, as I found it very realistic and well-founded. In terms of potential things to improve upon in this piece, I felt there were points in the poem where the phrasing became a bit wordy and over-explanatory. Two examples of this that I found were: "It certainly was an accident that devestated the containment of death in its own cynical chamber" (l. 4) These are just a few personal suggestions that come to mind.
Peredhil Posted October 30, 2005 Report Posted October 30, 2005 *hugs* This is timely. Thank you for giving words to a feeling difficult to express.
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