Wrote this about the girl I just ended things with, we were together for a long time. What do y’all think

Wrote this about the girl I just ended things with, we were together for a long time. What do y’all think

Doesn't feel unique, I'm afraid

I just want as many people as possible to share my tears

it's very simple, both in style and in the use of words
repetitive without purpose
"beautiful thought" and "beautiful weight" doesn't really work here for me
doesn't really evoke any powerful feeling of imagery as well, "the weight of the world" feels like an attempt to that, but just feels thrown there and not very meaningful at the same time.
I guess you could say that "the weight of the world" is about the "weight" you are feeling after the break up and "world" is because she meant the world to you, but the first is probably me reading to much into the poem trying to find some value and the second is a very poor and overdone metaphor

a least it's not the usual hipster instagram poem aesthetic
but feels like teenager first trying to poetry/10

you gonna have to try waay harder if you wanna bring someone to tear through a poem

anyway, I'm sorry that things went bad for you, wish you all the best, hope you get over it and feel better soon. and that later you can look at the relationship at having been worth it while it lasted and that it was constructive to shape the better human being you are after it.
in all sincerity

Then make it more raw. Say the things that other people won't admit to themselves. Or tap into a truth that people didn't realize they knew.
You may actually make it feel more universal by making it more personal and detailed. The lack of detail makes it unreal. You can make it so people identify with your interiority/way of seeing things rather than the specifics of your situation.

And I'm sorry about the breakup, user. It's never easy.

What thought? What movement? What sound? Incredibly unoriginal OP.

fuck ur normie problems, that shit was gay

Thank you frens I will try harder next time

Generic and dull. Throw away all adjectives if their only purpose is to underline your own feelings to yourself.

Here's a new version:
Her head weighing down on my chest
every thought, movement, sound
pressing down
On my chest her breath
the rise and fall constricting now
that her head on my chest
is no more

You only seemed to like the ’beautiful’ part of her... we all know that a healthy relationship has ugly parts to its lacking realism

It’s idealistic and sounds like you wrote it for her funeral

Melodically, it’s dull

Get a cat next time. More loyal, less demanding and you can get it to sleep on your chest. They're about the same weight as a human head too.

Even worse than OP

No, it really is not.

This is probably that shit poem that Stephen wrote about "transcending the characters and focusing on the emotion" from Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man. At least Joyce had the decency not to print it.

so beautiful and masterful

>Throw away all adjectives if their only purpose is to underline your own feelings to yourself.
what the fuck is this

i want to fight you

Why did you end it?
And you will feel it again, faggot.
I felt the same after my first major break up, I thought I'd never meet anyone like that again. Now I'm with someone better and happier than I've ever been in my life.

Learn another language and write it in that.
English is garbage for poetry

Pretty bad. Really doesn't tell me anything about the relationship, and isn't pleasurable to read by itself. Practice writing some more with subjects that aren't so personal to you so you won't be biased.

I think I know why it didn't work out.

all I could gather from this is that youre sad and a little scared. it will really impress the girls in your high school english class

Its good for slam poetry

>slam poetry

While we're sharing the artifacts of our miseries, here's a breakup letter I wrote someone.
************

The other night I dreamed the two of us were in a little red car headed someplace that both of us had forgotten about. We were in the dark, in the midst of a hard driving storm. We were going up a winding hill and we were lost. The only real illumination came from sparks of lightning, and hail was mixed into the rain, hitting the car like pebbles.
At the top of the hill there was a house, and it was unlocked. We were both cold and quickly getting wet, so we went in, flipping on light switches and calling out to see if anyone was home. The place was empty, and I got our things out of the car. We had no other place to go.
The house had two floors, and the bottom level was very decayed. The curtains were rotting, the chairs and sofas were all threadbare, the kitchen looked positively ancient and the 70-year old fridge was full of decaying meat. You tried the faucets and they clanked and rumbled before spitting out brown sludge.

It was cold, too.

We ventured upstairs, holding hands in the darkness, and it was like an entirely different home. Everything was new and clean, an idealized wooden country home with the cupboards fully stocked. The electricity worked, we both took a hot shower and we nestled in these wondrously fluffy covers on a beautiful brass bed. They were sun-faded red and blue, filled with down and so warm. We fell asleep, holding each other but waking up separate.
Outside, the storm was still raging. I looked at my phone, no service but a solid 12 hours had passed and we sort of settled into this loop, me reading and you making small crafts. Hot showers and long sleeps. The rain outside never let up. It hardly ever got any brighter, either. We never went downstairs, if we could help it. Every few days the cupboards would be restocked, as if by magic.

When I woke up from this dream I was absolutely soaked in sweat, pains in my abdomen from all the garbage I’ve thrown down there in years past and present. I would do anything to go back to that dream, but the problem is that it’s just a dream, it will never sustain us and the foundations of that home are still old and rotten, untended to and something I don’t want to venture into all that often.

We have this warm and comforting sell-lit oasis, but it's built on top of that rotting foundation, and even though it’s warm there and the sheets are always clean and there’s food in the pantry, is there really enough to build a life on? Without a bed of chemical ignorance to lie upon or intense suffering fresh in my mind, I don’t value you the way I should, and I can’t seem to get it right. I don’t know if I ever will.

delete this
english is brilliant for poetry

Few things in poetry are less beautiful than calling something beautiful.

8/10, I had a mental image in my head after reading

Heres the proper version:

The world feels empty without you.

****

Now give me my shekels.

You convinced me

i think you left her for a dude, fag

Sounds fucking gay desu

it’s shit: it’s dull, it’s impersonal, it’s boring, it’s faggy

i'ts nice

bad so bad are you like fucking in high school or something

bookmarked for future reference

it's alright, but not just by itself. If you surrounded that with 230 pages of filled pages, I wouldn't complain.
i can definitely feel the feeling of loss and loneliness, sorry user

She dodged a bullet.

Jesus, you guise are pretty ruthless.

OP, you should make it more about YOUR situation, more uniquely you.

It may be in part because I'm a no-longer-bitter incel, but love poetry like this is so boring to me. It's always more or less the same cliches, the vocabulary is all drawn from the same, narrow, worn-out field, and it's usually not very interesting in terms of form either.

what's your secret
how did you become Chad

Stupid? I'm still an incel, I'm just so far removed from the world of normal people that I'm no longer bitter or envious.

Hahaha it's shit bro

this is coming from a Romantic

sounds like a tumblr poem

nevermind

lol gay

>mon visage quand i know this feel

Whatever works, man! Writing is also a therapeutic activity.Been there, done that, I unironically wish you the best.

>if I call something beautiful that means it is

Why do idiots use adjectives, and such poor, simple ones at that, in place of emotion?