Sta.sh
i. last fall
i had my heart torn apart
(by you)
by a boy- one who replaced
his ripped bluish-gray jeans
(that i loved on you)
for brown corduroy pants to keep him safe
from the coming harshness of winter;
even through its irrational number
of hail and rainstorms,
i don't believe i felt
or recalled a thing about that fall
for it was during that fall that not even the howling of the winds
could help shatter my dangling,
crystallizing heart
and our growing, cathartic distance.
i, too, had to adjust as i was forced
to learn
how to make due
without the heat of your arms
over and around my nape
and waist.
i'm not sure if it was just my imagination,
but, the pre-winter drafts lasted longer
than usual that year.
ii. last winter
you and i became friends,
coming back to where we started off,
on the surface
(on my part at least)
this was the first winter i'd seen you
wear ear muffs.
you told me about some other girl
(with the same chestnut hair as mine)
you told me how she mentioned
that she loved your fine and pointy nose
(which was finer than mine)
i, on the other hand, always found
your delicate nose silly
as it was offsetting
to your deliciously deep hazel eyes
and thick, jet black brows.
you'd have been hotter with a more
prominent schnoz and chin, i'd always
half-jest and half-mean.
iii. this spring
it seemed like the whole world was ready
for chloe and rebirth except for me;
i remained brown and low.
flowers bloomed bountifully,
with pollen creeping in everywhere,
all the while staining everything.
nature made it easy to lie
about why my eyes always watered
when you said you had to go home
(for you knew she was waiting for you),
leaving me to get lost in my lonely mess
of blankets and bedspreads.
your delicate nose never so much as sneezed,
while my orbs remained red, puffy eyesores,
inferior.
insensitive as you are,
you continued to sing me praises
of her corn-blue eyes that matched
the lazy afternoon skies,
cloudless and still.
iv. this summer
i've met a boy, tall and dark,
who wears cut-off jeans
(and ocean green eyes when he goes fishing)
(i may be falling for a merman, it seems)
who, when i sneeze, kisses my eyelids
and tells me how cute my pierced nose is.
i've found new pleasure
(and new places for his hands):
my stomach and chest as he curls around me
(like you never really could)
he plants secret kisses beneath my ears
and in the small of my back.
this year, the summer sun
is shining stronger than any other
year i can remember.
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I like the concept. Discussing the seasons has been a trend taken by quite a few people but each usually comes up with their version and interpretation and this was quite a nice one. Firstly it was not cliched which is something I greatly liked. Then the expressions were... it is strange in a way that you managed to write quite well while staying within the present domain - you didn't choose an older setting for such a tale which perhaps... I would have done so.
Its free verse (as I see it) so there is no technical problem other than me wondering what the "small of the back" is and I was wondering if that... well is an existing expression
Finally, coming to the emotional content, this work was in a way weird, but in a good way. It was different. It didn't finally complete the cycle - discuss your/the protagonists, relation with the previous boy and neither did you discuss his reaction. Just the part of the story where the girl felt for him but didn't receive his love and then herself found happiness... if I am wrong somewhere that is utterly embarrassing
I really appreciate all the effort you put into this humbling critique.
*travelgirlxx is insanely talented!
Be sure to check out the other artists featured and show your support by
I'm thrilled and beyond blissful! Thank you so, so much, everybody!