Look! It's Anxiety!

[Queerventions]

Look! It's Anxiety!

I haven't actually spoken yet. 
At least not aloud
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. 
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 im being dumb
But my mind says I'm not dumb... but they think you are. 
They think you're a tool,
They laugh all around you and just stare into your truest flaws.
My time is done.
If you want to laugh and be happy you have a few minutes

[QDeathstar]

This feels like a commercial for some prescription medicine, the words are there, the feelings are there, the symptoms are there, but the emotion is not. It reads too sterile. I get sense of axienty. Just a description. The line breaks also seem haphazard, and stutter-stoppish.

Best line of the poem was the one about the school bus and dr. pepper. I like the fact that it ran les anxiously along. Rest of the poem, eh, take it or leave it.

thanks for the read.

[Wjames]

Look! It's Anxiety!

I haven't actually spoken yet. 
At least not aloud
But somehow we've already had a conversation. 
I said things i didn't actually say
I did things i didn't actually do. How did this silent conversation take place? Was it through looks? What was said?
And now you hate me when i really don't know.  What don't you know?
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 don't really understand the situation, because I don't understand the conversation that never happened.

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 im being dumb
But my mind says I'm not dumb... but they think you are.  
They think you're a tool,
They laugh all around you and just stare into your truest flaws. Who is they?
My time is done.
If you want to laugh and be happy you have a few minutes

I think you could make it a little clearer by answering the questions I have above, in the poem.

[Quixilated]

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

[humility]

I don't feel much earworm quality when I say it out loud. Some of the sentences are pretty long and provide no rest or break to breathe when I try speaking them. And there is something about the third line that makes my mouth fumble. As for the subject matter. The narrator spilled something on his/her shirt 7 years ago and was embarrassed about it. And now every time he/she sees this person who witnessed it he/she remembers that time and gets embarrassed again assuming that the other person is just going to associate him/her with spilled rootbeer. Well not deep but I can empathize with it. At least three times now I've been grateful to hear someone had died because they were a witness to something I did that I found embarrassing as a kid.

[Queerventions]

Thank you everybody for you critique. It seems there is confusion as to what this poem means. It was all about the anxiety and paranoia I experience often. Every piece of this occurs withing the parameters of my mind. Every piece except the dr. pepper part that is.. The silent conversation is me in my head creating different scenarios that all turn to you hating me in some way. And the YOU is all-encompassing. No one person, but everyone I come into contact with. It is entirely unrelated and holds almost no significance, only to showcase the irrationality of my fear and embarrassment for events years ago that only I remember and was most likely forgotten by everyone else minutes after it happened (and it happened closer to 10 years ago). I separated the brain and mind to highlight the differences between our logical brains and the sub-conscience personality we call "the mind". THEY is once again not specific but general and applies to everyone other than myself. The last two lines "...my time is done...you have a few minutes" is telling you about my constant mood swings from being diagnosed with Bipolar Mood Disorder.

I hope this explanation helps some of you better understand what I was trying to say. I usually only write when I am very emotional and the words just come to me. This might be one instance where my thoughts didn't transfer well to english. I will posting an edit soon.

[psychonaut]

My first impression when I was finished was that the poem could use an edit. I found myself distracted by the typos sometimes. Now, I once had and an anxiety problem, and I feel like you have accurately described what it feels like, and I can absolutely relate to that but for me it is missing that emotion that elevates a poem to the point of art instead of just a description. For me. For example you do a lot of telling me how to feel " I'm paralyzed, restless, paranoid" etc. instead of making me FEEL those things.

[Erthona]

I little into the 2nd half it is unclear who is being referred to. If it is the other person, it is condescending, if it is the original speaker it is nonsensical. Neither makes much sense. Using the first person narrative in this sort of situation is dubious at best and here instead of drawing the reader into the the poem, giving the reader something to care about and a reason to emotionally connect, it does just the opposite. There also seems to be an undertone, and this may just be me, that if I present this in this "sterile" (good word whoever used it) fashion, then they will not I am pathetic, like throwing up a wall so as not to be vulnerable. Whether it is personal or not, truth and vulnerability both have to be laid out there.

Best,

dale

[ChristopherSea]

Hello, I just have a few general comments on your poem. This type of angst spilt upon paper can come off a little bit amateurish when it is poorly punctuated, has multiple typos and all lines are capitalized. It seems as though you don’t care, so why should the reader. Nonetheless, it can serve as the bones for a better piece if you take the trouble to do all of the above.

You don’t use many poetic devices herein. A core metaphor is usually an essential to poetry. Paint us a picture of your anxiety rather than narrate it. I see no paranoia in your piece at all and who has an inner dialog that is essentially image-free (other than the Dr Pepper stain on your shirt, which I like).

This needs a heavy edit. Good luck with it.   /Chris

[Sarah Luu]

I feel like there is a lack of emotion in this poem, which can be amended by adding more emotive words. When I read through this poem I get a sense of anxiety but it doesn't quite register with me and I'm not sure if that's due to your lack of punctuation or the rushed style in which you wrote. I feel that if you spend some time focusing more on your inner demons when you write and take your time with your words, you will come out with a more powerful poem on anxiety. I look forward to seeing your future improvements.

[Seanwd98]

I enjoyed and related to the poem so thank you for the read. It felt mildly juvenile because of words like "dumb". The grammar is slightly inconsistent and awkward "unable to think, but over-think everything" feels strange to me. The use of "they" is slightly confusing. Overall, good poem.

[kolemath]

I LOVE this poem's title! It's captivating and urged me to read on. Thanks for sharing!

Look! It's Anxiety!

I haven't actually spoken yet. 
At least not aloud --great opening lines, totally captures the contrast of spoken vs. silent thoughts
But somehow we've already had a conversation. 
I said things i didn't actually say
I did things i didn't actually do. --these lines spark my interest, but I'm not sure what they mean. Is it about people misinterpreting shyness? how might imagery strengthen these lines? what does this behavior look like?
And now you hate me when i really don't know. --I understand this transition from social awkwardness to people judging you for it. How might the transition smooth out? Line breaks? a transition of images?
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. --great wordplay with 'think'
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. -I love the length and imagery of this line!!!! How might this line inspire revisions for other parts of the poem?
My brain tells me im being dumb
But my mind says I'm not dumb... but they think you are. 
They think you're a tool,
They laugh all around you and just stare into your truest flaws. --I'm a bit confused here. Is the 'you' the speaker or those judging the speaker?
My time is done.
If you want to laugh and be happy you have a few minutes --this line is provocative!

[ariii]

The first thing I think of when I read this poem is that it is telling the reader what is going on, but not showing them. I think the line about the Dr. Pepper on the bus comes closest to "showing" language; maybe add more imagery like that in to replace the lines that are more "telling". (Ex. "I said things i didn't actually say / I did things i didn't actually do." What did you say that you didn't say? What did you do that you didn't do?) I understand that you're writing out the thoughts that run through your head when you experience anxiety, but they might be more poetically effective when replaced with more descriptive statements. I would suggest using strong adjectives and invoking the five senses to paint a more vivid picture of anxiety to the reader.

[Andrias]

This has no real structure, no rhyme or imagery.
What are you trying to accomplish with this?

It reads like the confessions of a teenager with social anxiety issues.
But I can relate, I've been there, the substance is all about you and how YOU feel
It's too literal and leaves nothing to the imagination.

No telling a story, it just feels like something you'd say to a therapist.

No offense.