Message

by Ian Nenna

Monday 12th July 2010 1:30 am

I twist
sheets and skin and mind
Time drags, stretches away into the night
slows down in treacle spoon drips

drip

Echoes in the darkness
The cavernous, midnight, pitch and tar, blind mans buff black
Reaching, clawing, ripping

Breaking out

It is the inside me, the thinking me, the fearfull me
The hatefull
Angry
I despise me, me

I left myself a message
A reminder for the morning
Carved into skin
And

As the last drop of blood dripped from the razor

I cried

◄ Dead Goods....are they?

At Night (rewrite- previously Message) ►

Comments

Andy N

Tue 13th Jul 2010 08:08

Very powerful, Ian.

You can tell this came right from the heart.

I particularly enjoyed the drip, drip references and the ending.

Will keep my eyes open for more.

Top banana!

John Darwin

Mon 12th Jul 2010 17:09

Ian, really enjoyed your stuff in Wigan, this is just as powerful on the page.

John

Ian Nenna

Mon 12th Jul 2010 17:06

Thanks Cynthia, very welcome feedback. I agree that the poem does go off and loses context and I have already re-edited/written it as it didnt work fully for me either. I posted in the hope of getting some feedback that could guide. The subject matter is close to my heart, very close, so I did find it difficult to express. Thank you :)

Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 12th Jul 2010 12:29

Strong, even though loose in context in some lines. It has a searching message that could be made into a vital poem with some careful review. It seems unlikely that the writer would ever really slash his/her wrists fatally. Too many ideas to relish.

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