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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: The stink of shamedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: taintedsmiles
    Elite Ratio:    3.88 - 62/87/67
    Words: 208
    Class/Type: Poetry/Misc
    Total Views: 472
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 1321



    Description:
       


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsThe stink of shamedots
    -------------------------------------------


    sickness, and shame
    it's a game played the same
    in a situation
    that is all but note worthy
    fear and anger
    clash with each other
    angry to be afraid!
    angry to have this shame
    a shroud pulled down on my face
    my mask was ugly before
    and now its stinky and dirty
    a horrific bag placed on me
    with stains of pain
    smeared unseen
    but you can smell it
    i look at the person
    looking at me
    watch as their nostrils flare
    from the smell in the air
    knowing
    something is wrong
    for this shame i feel so strong
    memories clash with the present
    interfering and invading my dreams
    lost in the sound of distant screams
    i sleep
    in fear
    of my shame
    as though i am the one to blame
    even though we all know i wasn't at fault
    i hide from the world
    for this pain won't stop
    pulling the mask tighter to my face
    my fingers digging in the palms of my hands
    i close my eyes like i could be alone
    inside myself
    and find that i am
    and i can't take away the memories
    i can not make this shame go away
    only sit here with my eyes closed
    smelling of the insane




    Submitted on 2013-07-23 18:34:17     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Shame requires one to actually care what anyone else thinks... and often others really don't care enough anyway to worry too much what they think. Do I want to be "accepted" by these people... I care less about that than they do about me. Back to centering on myself instead of what others think... after all who knows me better than me? Pain and anger serve to prove you're still alive in spite of everything... and it always seems foolish in hindsight. Ignore me... and feel the better for it knowing you have done no harm in doing so. Feel smugly satisfied in your sense of heightened emotional senses... vastly superior to my own... Word of the day: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Catharsis
    | Posted on 2013-07-25 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      I have a problem with long pieces without verses, when it`s all just one long verse. The short sentences bring speed and flow to the piece, but without pauses, it`s a difficult read and you don`t get air to swallow the imagery. The base emotions behind this piece seem clear though, and I loved the ending 4 lines.

    I can definitely relate to these feelings, god knows, I`ve written about the same a few times!

    I also like how you have a set theme, in a way, that keeps a red line through your piece, the smell, the stink. Easily connected to the main theme, shame. Shame does stink. It hurts too. And brings about doubt, uncertainty. It`s a dreadful emotion.

    Keep up the good work, I think this would have been even stronger if either shorter or in verses (not necessarily set/traditional verses, just whiffs of air certain places in the piece)

    After these lines, I would have skipped a line, to further point out the imagery and enhance the effect of them, as well as let the reader breathe:

    a shroud pulled down on my face

    lost in the sound of distant screams (a great powerful line that gets a bit lost in all the sentences)

    | Posted on 2013-07-24 00:00:00 | by ChrystalR | [ Reply to This ]


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