idk if anyone gaf but here's some of my poetry . hashtag reblog if you like it
thanks 4 reading . go under cut for some context (mostly for the first and second one)
uhg so basically here's a list of stuff i sent to my friend about the first one:
"'the pain opens and blossoms quite unlike a flower' being because i think people are quite the opposite of sunflowers in particular . we will very often make conscious efforts to turn away from the sun // joy if anything"
"1: god is a representation of my mother
"2: the title's because she wanted me to clean my room . no that is not where my main turmoil directly originated from . it came from the fact that i felt weirdly incapable of cleaning my room , and then i realized i felt weirdly incapable of doing anything , and then i acknowledged that even though i should be cleaning my room (which i used as a microcosm for being a normal functioning person i guess) and acting like a regular person in all the right ways , because this is what everyone does and what everyone generally should be capable of doing , i weirdly cannot even if i . can . idk
"3: i got a knife from my neighbor recently . no i am NOT planning to stab myself that is just semi-relevant to why i brought up a knife specifically
"4: the ending is supposed to be ambiguous as to whether the speaker ended up finally stabbing themselves or if they didn't . either way , their pain (whether it be mental or physical) is severe , and the lack of actual blossoming (adjacent to a flower) is supposed to represent a lack of positive growth (like i talked about earlier feeling incapable of cleaning my room blah blah blah) and the whole sunflower thing AHGHGHGH .
"5: the 'just like a flower' part is in reference to aestheticism and my tendency // humanity's tendency to romanticize pain and suffering . usage of 'we' and 'our' , lumping me in with the rest of humanity , is meant to contrast with my perceived alienation from the rest of the human race because of my incapability to act 'entirely' like a regular person
"tldr: yip yap yip yap i was sort of writing from both the perspective of myself and the perspective of a character i guess ?? idk how to explain it"
and also i'm bad at shaping poetry but it's supposed to look like the poem is being stabbed with a knife . if you can see it maybe
the second poem uhh . i wrote it in reference to dread and dread being the worst possible emotion a human person could experience kind of . last christmas i was happy even though my grades sucked because the worst was already over and i didn't have to dread it any longer and there was nothing more i could do . the application thing was me rationalizing something as simple as dreading the phone light turning off turning to wanting it to turn off just so the dread disappears and wanting to apply it to a much larger scale—such as my own life . the last line is unclear as to whether i'm dreading the rest of my life , my eventual death , or maybe both . the title was from the specific dostoevsky quote that said "your worst sin is that you've destroyed and betrayed yourself for nothing" .. basically i am saying that i SHOULD be coping with my dread in a more healthy productive manner ....... but i Don't .
and this is more vague and hard to explain but in order for "dostoevsky said" to be a complete sentence as such is demanded for proper use of the semi colon , it would have to follow a quote . like "i'm on crack" dostoevsky said . (but with a semi colon instead of a period) so one could imagine dostoevsky's original quote about self betrayal there and the semi colon + the following poem implying a "modern" or "related" rephrasing of dostoevsky's original problem
one short thing for the 4th poem is that a funny (not really) thing that i included was a vague allusion to the speaker ending their own lifespan ("it would not matter when i was dead" and "chalked up 'early success' to college" .. early success meaning , in actuality , an early success at ye old Intentional Self Dying) [sorry idk how strict tumblr's guidelines are so i'm stuck to typing like an absolute troglodyte]
something brief for the 5th poem is that i wrote this cuz i was sad that so many other people had beautiful , visible agony in response to suffering while i usually feel . nothing . outside of the sheer present reality of the situation . i feel sad when it happens and then i feel apathy and then i wish i'd feel something so i end up wishing the thing would happen again ("i think i liked living with a knife in my gut") just so people would see my pain and think of it as pretty or lovable
