Poetry / I Am Dead

Is this about rape? That’s horrible. But yeah, you did a good job with it. No matter how it’s done, when you loose your inocence you loose a lot more than just the pysical. You are a different person who know knows you can never be whole.

I like the way you say it and it’s not vauge as my problem is so good job I guess.

This is a very good poem. I can tell that it truly came from the heart.

Nice job with the poetic devices…using word presentation to physically imitate meaning.  Very e.e. cummings of you.  I think you could take that aspect even a little further…to an extreme…if you wished.

If you want to know what I mean, look at my poem ‘clean’.

As with just about everything of yours, this drips with bloodied pain and seethes with anger.  It is tragically beautiful.

For what it’s worth (perhaps not the ‘credits’), if you are angry, you are a long way from dead.  When you’re dead, when you are truly the living dead, the un-dead, a soul-less body walking…you don’t feel, not even anger.

Perhaps you have just been sleeping, hiding in a laquer shell out of necessity.  But, this reads to me like you are getting strong, throwing the verbal punches and cutting with the razor sharp words…so I think maybe you are not sleeping anymore, either.

People can raise the dead back to life and you really need to realize that or you’ll never live. Thanks for this piece, I’m a rape victim as well and it means a lot that you can speak on it so bluntly.

Excellent poem!! very sad experience .  i know writing is the best therapy.

SO pretty!

The emotion behind this poem is so strong that I feel almost guilty critiquing it as a piece. :(

I want to see more imagery. I know that the speaker of the poem has had these images stuck in her head for five years, reliving them again and again…let the reader see them.

His hands were cold, rough, strong. These are adjectives that describe them, but there are lots of different kinds of rough. Are they callused from working? Are they cold because the weather is cold, or is he creepy and clammy?

I’d like to be able to see what’s happening.

It’s hard to critique the poem without objecting STRENUOUSLY to the content, that five years later, you are still giving up your spirit.  It makes me want welcome you to the Vast Virginal Victim club, and then shake you and tell you to reclaim yourself, sister.

I like that you messed with typography a bit in this poem.  I realize the options are limited, but you’ve made impact with your spacing and caps and underline. This is strong use of the physical space of the poem.

This line is a real stopping point:

Who that was given to was in my hands

“should have been in my hands” would help make your meaning more clear and also make the line easier to read.

If emotional reaction is any measure, know that your poem pisses me off.  I wish I could believe this was fictional.

So sad and revealing.  I ached and was pained for whomever this was told.  I can only assume, maybe this was in some way, a cathartic measure…I hope so anyway, in some small way at least.  Although I can’t imagine the sadness I can tell you this, do not be afraid of the one that can kill the body and not the soul, but only be afraid of the one that can kill both the body and soul.  And the only person that can do that is the one that gave us both, God.  Man may take our body, but not our soul.  That will always remain God’s.
Thank you for sharing the horror of this.  I hope it will help the one(s) that most need it.
Ralph

So sad this story is. I hope and pry that this was you placing yourself in anothers shoes, but if it was you then for that I send you blessings and offer you my sympathy.

Now as for your piece it was from a readers point very heart felt. I felt your pain. I felt you hate and sadness. To have something like this linger on and on for years is such a tragedy.