Thread: Paper Suicide

Paper Suicide

Crumpled paper living in a jar;
he could never finish a letter. Fractured
pencils sever line after line
just to silent silence. Hush.
Let her be injured. This time.
And go gather your slivers of paper dolls--
toy tragedy. Sift them through
your fingers and make paper rain. He knew
she knew how to hurt. Corrode her lungs.
Cough it up in necrotic clumps.
With broken jars, he could finish writing.

And she will see him by the streetlight,
eating brilliance like the moon.
In a corner with a swinging rope, right
at her neck, so he can blow venom in her ears.
Over there. Everywhere. Never there.
She will smear, alive, then burst
in the center. Fleshy, fractured pencil.
Somewhere between a hanging body
and a jeering smile, she can hate.

Lovers living in blown glass. Kept in love,
kept quiet. Translucent lies, kept alive.
Crumbs of paper mate with the walls,
so then there is nothing, just paper balls.
He's sorry. He loves her.
The end of his letter.

Vary good, and dark hehe I enjoyed it immensely, well done.

Again, deliciously dark. Whether taken literally or figuratively, an equally lung bursting blow. Especially enjoyed "Cough it up in necrotic clumps", great alliteration, awesome image. And the entire last stanza is to die for. Well done, love.

Best,
Lisa

Thanks, both of you. Appreciate it.

Wow. I usually don't like being depressed, but your poem is very well done. Love the title too!

Angel, of course, I was attracted to your title and you lived up to it! I write darkly so I especially appreciated this verse. Your imagery is out of this world and so unexpected.

From the very beginning you avoid the banal. Who needs to hear "waste-basket" again? I'm reminded of a ship in a jar. Crumpled paper inside of a glass bottle floating in the ocean. A poem, a letter?

Crumpled paper living in a jar

Bellow, fab! Though I would reconstruct this part of stanza to serve it better. I like the way you introduce "paper" in different context. The last three lines are brilliant and should awaken the reader standing on their own. Actually very suitable for the perfect ending of a poem. I would suggest fooling around with stanza breaks through the entire poem. If you have any questions, I'm here. You could PM me if you wish.

Let her be injured,
this time.
Go gather your slivers
of paper dolls,
toy tragedy.

Sift them through
your fingers
and make paper rain.

He knew
she knew how to hurt.

A fine alliteration. I believe one should really take advantage of the varied Figures of Speech when writing verse. And you have with metaphor and imagery.

And she will see him by the streetlight,
eating brilliance like the moon.

I absolutely love this but have a a suggestion. Re: the highlighted, the beauty. How does the moon eat? A metaphor too stretched. Perhaps:

"Feasting brilliance like the moon. You can feast with your eyes. "He" like the moon, feasts the brilliance of the surrounding stars, panets. creatures on earth.

All in all e.g.

And she will see him by the streetlight,
feasting brilliance like the moon.

Lovers living in blown glass. Kept in love,
kept quiet. Translucent lies, kept alive.
Crumbs of paper mate with the walls,
so then there is nothing, just paper balls.
He's sorry. He loves her.
The end of his letter.

Delightful "paper" references, again. "Mate with the walls" What imagery! And the ryhming with "papper balls" works.

An delightfully dark read. Just my thing! Laurie

Thanks so much! I've noticed you posting about how you like dark poetry, and I remember thinking, "Oh, she should read mine!" Ha, ha. I like the idea of reconstructing this a bit. I've been planning on it, actually. Will post the revision when I do! Thanks again.

Will be looking very forward to the revision!