Posts: 36
Threads: 10
Joined: Apr 2015
This is it, I am one of those girls,
sitting on a sidewalk post-party.
I live just down the street, but I am too lost to go home.
I miss my friend, I need to talk to him
right now, right fucking now,
but he won’t pick up.
He never picks up.
I can’t go home like this.
My friends would not judge, but please forgive me:
tendrils of liquor still cling to my veins,
and I’m barely rational at the best of times.
My teeth dig into the back of my hand
and by tomorrow, I will have paid for my sins
with the shadowy quarters lying under my skin.
Sins can be paid for in quarters,
but shame demands a higher price,
so I shove my fingers down my throat
(like something else was not too long ago)
and pay with tears, bile, and white foam.
The roads are quiet, dark, and deep,
and down the middle, I walk, and think:
If phantom trucks roared down the street,
would I run or go to sleep?
They say that all roads lead to Rome
That’s great, but I need the one that goes home.
Posts: 54
Threads: 22
Joined: Dec 2014
(11-02-2015, 06:16 PM)SnarlingThroughOurSmiles Wrote: This is it, I am one of those girls,
sitting on a sidewalk post-party.
I live just down the street, but I am too lost to go home.love this line
I miss my friend, I need to talk to him
right now, right fucking now,
but he won’t pick up.
He never picks up.im not sure about this stanza. The second line is define fly not needs,but I think this stanza could really work if you seriously changed some stuff and put more emotion into in. Why do you need your friend? Why isn't he picking up? Use an image.
I can’t go home like this.
My friends would not judge, but please forgive me:why are your friends at your house? If they're not, make it more clear.
tendrils of liquor still cling to my veins,
and I’m barely rational at the best of times.
My teeth dig into the back of my hand
and by tomorrow, I will have paid for my sins
with the shadowy quarters lying under my skin.
Sins can be paid for in quarters, i would try to find a different word than quarters here. Bits, change, coins. Something.
but shame demands a higher price,
so I shove my fingers down my throat
(like something else was not too long ago)try to use a little bit more imagery here. "My throat responded at the all to familiar feeling of flesh" or something.
and pay with tears, bile, and white foam.
The roads are quiet, dark, and deep,
and down the middle, I walk, and think:
If phantom trucks roared down the street,
would I run or go to sleep? definitely keep the sentiment here, and maybe the first rhyme, but a whole stanza of rhyme after free verse is a little weird...
They say that all roads lead to Rome
That’s great, but I need the one that justgoes home.
I love it!! Thanks for the read, and sorry if I was a little harsh. Also, thanks for the feedback on my poem!
Sometimes I feel like writing poetry and sometimes I watch Netflix. No judging.
(11-02-2015, 06:16 PM)SnarlingThroughOurSmiles Wrote: This is it, I am one of those girls,
sitting on a sidewalk post-party.
I live just down the street, but I am too lost to go home.
I miss my friend, I need to talk to him
right now, right fucking now,
but he won’t pick up.
He never picks up.
I can’t go home like this.
My friends would not judge, but please forgive me:
tendrils of liquor still cling to my veins,
and I’m barely rational at the best of times.
My teeth dig into the back of my hand
and by tomorrow, I will have paid for my sins
with the shadowy quarters lying under my skin.
Sins can be paid for in quarters,
but shame demands a higher price,
so I shove my fingers down my throat
(like something else was not too long ago)
and pay with tears, bile, and white foam.
The roads are quiet, dark, and deep,
and down the middle, I walk, and think:
If phantom trucks roared down the street,
would I run or go to sleep?
They say that all roads lead to Rome
That’s great, but I need the one that goes home.
I can relate even as an older person to the angst of the young person over the guy. What also resonates is the idea of not wanting to go home, then feeling lost, and needing to get home. Like the idea of shame demanding a higher price, but not sure what that is?
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