Posted this for the first time a while back. Not bothered if you've read the original, new comments as welcome as always! However if you're feeling particuarly generous, perhaps take a sneaky peek at the last one and let me know how this compares?
Reading the original it seemed quite immature writing, and I'd like to think I've improved it somewhat, but there's only one way to find out...
Whenever I see you now
you've red ribbons on your wrists.
Born with pride they testify your
every troubled thought, word and deed.
They paint me a picture; you spilling
blood and silent words that flash
like razorblades, splinters out of better days,
all over the bathroom floor.
So each time I see the ribbons there,
uncovered, bare - you were always a soldier -
and you ask me why I care
I wonder if you've missed the point.
But God knows why I trace those ribbons
criss-crossing your arms, with eyes that weep
and a hand that trembles
offered in hope and love and fright,
to bloodstained fingers, clutching a razor
aching to turn off the light.
|
Ebb and flow
Written by Bats (13 comments posted) 12th October 2007 |
Dramatic story, well-chosen words, nice imagery, some great lines - 'friends crying for denied goodbyes' - and it makes you think a lot. Overall though I got no great feeling of progression. The fourth stanza kind of stands out as a great ending - this is why you do this stuff to yourself - and says, 'an end', so it might be more effective second to last stanza - just before the 'this is how it effects me' impact ending.
Bats |
Written by gutterkitty (362 comments posted) 12th October 2007 |
| This does seem more restrained than the original, more compressed somehow. I like it a lot. Writing about self-harm is tricky to do without being clichéd but I think you managed it. I love "splinters out of better days". I also like the ending. I don't see the need for stanzas 3 and 4 though. They seem out of place, both in their brevity (which breaks up the flow) and the level of drama (higher than the rest of the piece). Good work Clo. |
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