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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Magpiedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: nebnim
    ASL Info:    21 - Female - My Room
    Elite Ratio:    4.01 - 284/405/75
    Words: 138
    Class/Type: Poetry/Love
    Total Views: 870
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 933



    Description:
       I had a nightmare a few nights ago. I haven't had one that bad in so long that it absolutely terrified and unraveled me. My lover held me as I lay shivering and crying. And though I tried to push him away, he refused to budge. Instead, he forced me back down...dragged me kicking and screaming out of my own fears. How many times have you done that already, Arick?
    I love you.


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

    dotsMagpiedots
    -------------------------------------------


    Like a junkie after a bad trip,
    I felt myself shy away
    From your words, your touch, your comfort.
    Balled up in self-induced terror.
    My mind and body feel like war,
    After collecting shadowy ghosts of emotions
    Capturing memories gone wild.
    Scratching my skin,
    Convinced that tiny shards of glass
    (perhaps born from a half-shattered soul)
    Are trying to evacuate my now limp body.
    Simply a dream;
    A slide show of images,
    A flash photo of events passed,
    Yet it reduces me to this...
    This shivering child.
    This paranoid addict.
    Unable and unwilling to cope
    With my own memories -
    Memories that I gather and hold hostage,
    Like bits of string, dead grass, old shoe laces.
    To build a nest.
    Attacking any who come near
    To the core of my loss...
    And the beginning of my gain.




    Submitted on 2005-09-01 18:03:47     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      WOW! epic storytelling to convey your emotions.

    loved this = After collecting shadowy ghosts of emotions Capturing memories gone wild

    The lines above created a slide show for me of you grabbing memory ghost inside a glass jar. Nice work.

    loved this as well = Like bits of string, dead grass, old shoe laces. To build a nest

    The above lines are bloody great. Building your wall 4 only you to witness. Great! loved it
    | Posted on 2005-11-30 00:00:00 | by childs | [ Reply to This ]
      Hey sugar,
    This is raw, edgy and painful. I'm so glad you have someone there to help comfort you thru those times. Good luck to you both.
    Traci :)
    | Posted on 2005-09-07 00:00:00 | by onetruesmartass | [ Reply to This ]
      This is real! A raw and honest image! I think we've all had a bad dream or two. We've all experienced the fear of which you speak. We all try to cope in our own way. To have your lover nearby, to cling to, surely is the best way to ride out this kind of storm. Just a few suggestions:

    L5 - I think it should be "feeling".
    L8 - "scratched"
    L10 - "borne"
    L21 - "old shoe laces"?

    I think the fear, passion, remembrances, and the comparison to "nest" building, are all the best parts of this.

    Favorite line/s:

    "Memories that I gather and hold hostage,
    Like bits of string, dead grass, old shoe laces."

    A very good poem, very emotional, interesting to read, it holds the reader's interest all the way through to the end. I could feel the terror in your heart, the easing of that by your lover's touch, and your own self-realization that you must live with this. In a lot of ways "tondo" is correct in his comparison to Emily Dickinson, it does read like something she might write. Although your experiences and hers are worlds apart.

    This was a most enjoyable read, something you wrote straight from your heart, and that comes through to the reader.

    Phil
    | Posted on 2005-09-03 00:00:00 | by phil askew | [ Reply to This ]
      There's an emotional tale here, of a midnight nightmare, a sudden awakening, continuing fear and comfort in the arms of your lover.

    There's also a powerful lesson here, in that we limit ourselves and torture ourselves far more than any external person.

    "Memories that I gather and hold hostage,
    Like bits of string, dead grass, old shoe laces.
    To build a nest."

    It's interesting how the very thoughts that we gather to provide comfort, create instead pain. I guess sometimes we just need to cast away our memories and soar.

    Steve
    | Posted on 2005-09-14 00:00:00 | by Lost Sheep | [ Reply to This ]


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