An Afternoon with a Friend

[Observer]

EDIT: First revision below.
...

We were so close, she and I.
We’d sit cross-legged, face to face,
and simply watch time trickle by.
I asked her how she was feeling
but she’d look at me as if to say
“Do I look like I’m okay?”
Of course, we were both in a dark place.
She used to speak of shaving her scalp and setting off
to where no-one knew her by name or face.

We’d discuss piercings, tattoos, and dyeing hair.
I liked red and she liked blue.
I told her that, if she wanted a tattoo,
it’s something she should think about
because it can't be undone.

She liked the idea of making a statement with her body.

We sat together on the sofa,
her head resting against my shoulder.
I liked these moments most.
Her restless spirit - its love of hair dyed blue,
or no hair at all – was content.
I remember not breathing so I could feel
the movement of her chest.

Sometimes I ponder the wise words of my friend.
I wonder if I could do the same thing:
shave my head, change my name,
just start walking
and shelve my past as if it were only
a book that I’d been reading.
She opened my eyes more than I opened hers.
I miss her dearly.

[staciamberdawn]

Be gentle; it's my first time (huehuehue)
...

I often reminisce about an afternoon I spent at a friend’s house.

We were so close, her and I.
We’d sit cross-legged, face to face,
and simply watch time trickle by.
We talked about everything.
I asked her how she was feeling (without fail) every day without fail seems unnecessary
and every time she’d look wistfully at me
as if to say “Look at me! Do I look like I’m okay?”
Of course, we were both in a dark place.
She used to speak of shaving her scalp and setting off
to where no-one knew her by name or face. She sounds brillant  

She wanted to be lost in a sea of strangers.

We’d discuss piercings, tattoos, and dyeing hair.
I liked red and she liked blue.
I told her that, if she wanted a tattoo,
it’s really something she should think about
because once you’ve got it it’s there. Forever.

She liked the idea of making a statement with her body. This deserves its own stanza

Later on, we’d sit together on the sofa,
her head resting against my shoulder. And I liked these moments most
because she was resting too. i love this insight into your relationship in this stanza. It's really conveying the intimacy to the reader
Her restless spirit, its love of hair dyed blue (or no hair at all) – was content. "it's" Referring to her spirit? It's not clear
She was at peace which was a rarity.
I remember trying not to breathe so I could feel
the rise and fall of her chest, and muse silently and with clarity.

She opened my eyes more than I opened hers. As does this. I feel it provides more drama

At times I often ponder on the words of my wise friend.
I wonder longingly if I could do such a thing
as to shave my head and change my name
and merely just start walking.Love this sentence
Close up my past as if it were only Reword / 'close up' doesnt quite sound right.
a book that I’d been reading.
But impulse, while attractive, is best treated cautiously.
I’m not my insightful friend.
And perception and thoughtfulness are qualities
I do not possess in abundance.

i want there to be an ending about your friend here. "She ... " To provide closure.

Overall i really enjoyed reading this. you really created her character in a captivating way for the reader.
Like i noted i was left feeling incomplete at the ending. I feel there needs to be some closure for her. Every stanza is so wrapped up in her and it concludes on you. I'm left wondering what happened to her ?

[Todd]

Hi Observer,

Welcome to the site!

A better title for the piece might be "An Afternoon Spent With A Friend" The house part is a bit irrelevant. It is mostly observations about her, and what they also say about the speaker.

There is a poem in this but it feels like a very early draft. I think you need to pare it down so you can bring better clarity and emphasis to the piece.  

Be gentle; it's my first time (huehuehue)
...

I often reminisce about an afternoon I spent at a friend’s house.

We were so close, her and I.--she and I
We’d sit cross-legged, face to face,
and simply watch time trickle by.
We talked about everything.--Lines like this are what I mean by early first draft. They get you thinking in the right way to write but the line itself conveys very little. Everything should count more than this.
I asked her how she was feeling (without fail) every day
and every time she’d look wistfully at me
as if to say “Look at me! Do I look like I’m okay?”--Again even in fictionalized dialogue this is too many words for what you're expressing. Very little is said in three line.
Of course, we were both in a dark place.
She used to speak of shaving her scalp and setting off
to where no-one knew her by name or face.

She wanted to be lost in a sea of strangers.--This line and the one above convey the same idea. Pare back where you can.

We’d discuss piercings, tattoos, and dyeing hair.
I liked red and she liked blue.
I told her that, if she wanted a tattoo,
it’s really something she should think about
because once you’ve got it it’s there. Forever.--Another three lines that could be tightened.
She liked the idea of making a statement with her body.

Later on, we’d sit together on the sofa,
her head resting against my shoulder. And I liked these moments most
because she was resting too.
Her restless spirit, its love of hair dyed blue (or no hair at all) – was content.
She was at peace which was a rarity.
I remember trying not to breathe so I could feel
the rise and fall of her chest, and muse silently and with clarity.
She opened my eyes more than I opened hers.

At times I often ponder on the words of my wise friend.
I wonder longingly if I could do such a thing
as to shave my head and change my name
and merely just start walking.
Close up my past as if it were only
a book that I’d been reading.
But impulse, while attractive, is best treated cautiously.
I’m not my insightful friend.
And perception and thoughtfulness are qualities
I do not possess in abundance.

I'm sure you get the idea. I think you could develop this well. Less is more.

I hope the comments help.

Best,

Todd

[Erthona]

Picking up where Todd left off. Mainly getting rid of extraneous words.  

Later on, we’d sit (we sat) together on the sofa,
her head resting against my shoulder. 
I liked these moments most
because she was resting too.
Her restless spirit – its love of hair dyed blue,
or no hair at all – was content.
She was at peace which was a rarity.
I remember trying not to breathe (not breathing) so I could feel
the rise and fall movement of her chest, and muse silently and with clarity. (rise and fall is trite)
She opened my eyes more than I opened hers. (maybe at the end, doesn't fit here)

At times Sometimes I often pondered on the wise words of my wise friend.
I wonder longingly if I could do such a the same thing:
as to shave my head, change my name,
and merely just start walking
Close up and shelve my past as if it were only
a book that I’d been reading.
But impulse, while attractive, is best treated cautiously.
I’m not my insightful friend.
And perception and thoughtfulness are qualities
I do not possess in abundance.

The en dashes should be em dashes and should have no spaces between the words.


Welcome to the site,

Dale

[Observer]

Thanks for the feedback everyone! I've acted on it, and I think that it has improved the poem considerably. I'm sure there are still ways I can improve, so I'd love to hear some more critique as to how the revision flows.

[Todd]

Hi Observer, Let me comment on the edit. I'm not sure if this is a good idea to do what I'm about to do. I don't want this to come across as "this is what you must do" but I plan to ignore your rhyme for now and simply pare the piece down to the raw essentials (as I see them obviously) so that you can get a sense of where the excess may be. You can of course disagree, and you probably should--but hopefully this will be helpful. I may move a few lines around.

Here goes:

EDIT: First revision below.
...

I often reminisce about an afternoon I spent with a friend. The title does this for you already

We were so close, she and I. -- Show the closeness don't declare it.
We’d sit cross-legged, face to face,
and simply watch time trickle by.
I asked her how she was feeling

but she’d look at me as if to say

“Do I look like I’m okay?”

Of course, we were both in a dark place.
She used to speak of shaving her scalp and setting off
to where no-one knew her by name or face.

We’d discuss piercings, tattoos, and dyeing hair.
I liked red and she liked blue.
I told her that, if she wanted a tattoo,

it’s something she should think about

because it can't be undone. --Moved down and condensed

She liked the idea of making a statement with her body.
I told her that, if she wanted a tattoo, 
it couldn't be undone.

We sat together on the sofa,
her head resting She would rest her head against my shoulder.
I liked these moments most.

Her restless spirit - its love of hair dyed blue,

or no hair at all – was content.
I remember not breathing so I could feel
the movement of her chest.

Sometimes I ponder the wise words of my friend.
I wonder if I could do the same thing:
shave my head, change my name,
just start walking
and shelve my past as if it were only
a book that I’d been reading.
She opened my eyes more than I opened hers.
I miss her dearly.

Just thoughts to consider.

Best,

Todd

[Observer]

Some interesting suggestions there, Todd. I'll play around with them and see if I find a revision I like. Thanks again for such detailed critique; it really helps!