Hello Qv,
I like this poem, I feel a kinship with it.
Punctuation/grammar edits: I am sooooo not the final authority on punctuation, so if a suggestion seems wrong, it may very well be ... I have been known to be a little comma happy in the past. The thing with the capitalization of the "I," I couldn't tell if it was intentional, perhaps to emphasize the low self-esteem of the speaker?
Here is my interpretation of the poem: (If I have completely misunderstood, then some of my edit suggestions will need to be ignored.) The speaker spilled Dr. Pepper on a white shirt 7 years ago, and the other subject of the poem was witness to this catastrophic event. We aren't exactly given the original reaction of the other person, (I assume it wasn't great seeing as how this event so thoroughly traumatized the speaker of the poem), but regardless of the original reaction, the speaker has not been able to look at or speak to the other person ever again. Over time, the anxiety this awkward stand-off causes in the speaker has grown until it is all-consuming and distracting.
Look! It's Anxiety!
I haven't actually spoken yet.
At least not aloud. I like this line. There are so many non-verbal conversations that can happen even before you ever open your mouth.
But somehow we've already had a conversation.
I said things I didn't actually say;
I did things I didn't actually do.
And now you hate me when I really don't know. since the speaker has not actually confirmed the "hate" it might work to format this thought into the previous set pattern of "it did but it didn't."
Now I avoid you.
We don't make eye contact.
I can't speak to you for fear of your reaction.
All because of a conversation that we never actually had.
I'm paralyzed and restless,
Paranoid,
Unable to think,
But over-think everything.
I can't focus on any task because I'm remembering that time 7 years ago when I spilled Dr. Pepper on my white shirt on the school bus.
My brain tells me I'm being dumb The brain and mind are the same thing, I don't understand how it's telling you are dumb in one line and not dumb in the next line. It's confusing. I suggest taking out this first one and leave the next one.
But my mind says I'm not dumb... but they think you are.
They think you're a tool. who are "they"? Up until now there were only two in the poem, the speaker, and the witness. Unless all this time the "you" was a plural you? Suddenly switching to "they" is confusing. It would sync better with the first stanza if you keep it close and personal, "you think I'm dumb," "you laugh at me" etc.
They laugh all around you and just stare into your truest flaws.
My time is done. I don't understand these last two lines.
If you want to laugh and be happy you have a few minutes.
OK, please don't panic. This next advice is just me playing around with your poem, if you don't like it, simply disregard. There is a disconnect between the first and second stanza. The first stanza tells a story, the second is a little more stream-of-emotions and harder to follow. So I thought, perhaps, if you thread the two together, they could complement each other. The following example is merely one idea of hundreds of possible options, meant more as an idea-generator/brainstorming session, than an actual real suggestion. I just didn't know how to describe it without a visual aid.
I haven't actually spoken yet.
I'm paralyzed and restless
At least not aloud.
paranoid, unable to think
But somehow we've already had a conversation.
I'm over-thinking everything
I said things I didn't actually say;
I can't focus because I'm remembering
I did things I didn't actually do.
that time seven years ago
I shrink from words you never actually said. still playing around with this line
when I spilled Dr. Pepper on my white shirt on the school bus.
Now I avoid you.
Etc. You get the idea.
Anyway, I like bones of the poem, the idea behind it. I think you should keep playing with it and see where it goes. There are some places where you just say a thing so point blank, I wonder if it might work better to "show" rather than tell." Like instead of saying "the fog covered the town," Sandburg says "the fog comes in on little cat feet." Instead of saying "we don't make eye contact," is there a more original way to describe this action? Then again, every part of every poem doesn't always have to be shrouded in eternal mystery. So ... anyway.
Happy editing!
-Quix
I like this poem, I feel a kinship with it.
Punctuation/grammar edits: I am sooooo not the final authority on punctuation, so if a suggestion seems wrong, it may very well be ... I have been known to be a little comma happy in the past. The thing with the capitalization of the "I," I couldn't tell if it was intentional, perhaps to emphasize the low self-esteem of the speaker?
Here is my interpretation of the poem: (If I have completely misunderstood, then some of my edit suggestions will need to be ignored.) The speaker spilled Dr. Pepper on a white shirt 7 years ago, and the other subject of the poem was witness to this catastrophic event. We aren't exactly given the original reaction of the other person, (I assume it wasn't great seeing as how this event so thoroughly traumatized the speaker of the poem), but regardless of the original reaction, the speaker has not been able to look at or speak to the other person ever again. Over time, the anxiety this awkward stand-off causes in the speaker has grown until it is all-consuming and distracting.
Look! It's Anxiety!
I haven't actually spoken yet.
At least not aloud. I like this line. There are so many non-verbal conversations that can happen even before you ever open your mouth.
But somehow we've already had a conversation.
I said things I didn't actually say;
I did things I didn't actually do.
And now you hate me when I really don't know. since the speaker has not actually confirmed the "hate" it might work to format this thought into the previous set pattern of "it did but it didn't."
Now I avoid you.
We don't make eye contact.
I can't speak to you for fear of your reaction.
All because of a conversation that we never actually had.
I'm paralyzed and restless,
Paranoid,
Unable to think,
But over-think everything.
I can't focus on any task because I'm remembering that time 7 years ago when I spilled Dr. Pepper on my white shirt on the school bus.
My brain tells me I'm being dumb The brain and mind are the same thing, I don't understand how it's telling you are dumb in one line and not dumb in the next line. It's confusing. I suggest taking out this first one and leave the next one.
But my mind says I'm not dumb... but they think you are.
They think you're a tool. who are "they"? Up until now there were only two in the poem, the speaker, and the witness. Unless all this time the "you" was a plural you? Suddenly switching to "they" is confusing. It would sync better with the first stanza if you keep it close and personal, "you think I'm dumb," "you laugh at me" etc.
They laugh all around you and just stare into your truest flaws.
My time is done. I don't understand these last two lines.
If you want to laugh and be happy you have a few minutes.
OK, please don't panic. This next advice is just me playing around with your poem, if you don't like it, simply disregard. There is a disconnect between the first and second stanza. The first stanza tells a story, the second is a little more stream-of-emotions and harder to follow. So I thought, perhaps, if you thread the two together, they could complement each other. The following example is merely one idea of hundreds of possible options, meant more as an idea-generator/brainstorming session, than an actual real suggestion. I just didn't know how to describe it without a visual aid.
I haven't actually spoken yet.
I'm paralyzed and restless
At least not aloud.
paranoid, unable to think
But somehow we've already had a conversation.
I'm over-thinking everything
I said things I didn't actually say;
I can't focus because I'm remembering
I did things I didn't actually do.
that time seven years ago
I shrink from words you never actually said. still playing around with this line
when I spilled Dr. Pepper on my white shirt on the school bus.
Now I avoid you.
Etc. You get the idea.
Anyway, I like bones of the poem, the idea behind it. I think you should keep playing with it and see where it goes. There are some places where you just say a thing so point blank, I wonder if it might work better to "show" rather than tell." Like instead of saying "the fog covered the town," Sandburg says "the fog comes in on little cat feet." Instead of saying "we don't make eye contact," is there a more original way to describe this action? Then again, every part of every poem doesn't always have to be shrouded in eternal mystery. So ... anyway.
Happy editing!-Quix
The Soufflé isn’t the soufflé; the soufflé is the recipe. --Clara