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Dec 11, 2024
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Repressed
She wrote to him that cold night,
the ink bled through.
And though the letter made its way
into the affable flame,
the fireplace held the charred
ashes of their lives long after,
as did the surface of her desk
and the cruel stains on her fingertips.
About This Poem
Style/Type: Free verse
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Geezer
6 months 4 weeks ago
And did she...
confess her heart, or write her last will and testament in ink and feed it to the flames? Consigning her mortal soul to a life without love? Sorry, just couldn't help myself... ~ Geez.
.
Lavender
6 months 3 weeks ago
Hello, Geezer!
Maybe all of the above! This took shape when reflecting on a friend who is in a very repressed relationship, but any interpretation is likely.
Thank you for reading and always offering me more to think about!
L
Geezer
6 months 3 weeks ago
It is...
always my pleasure, to respond to your writes. You are a springboard to the many other paths that open with your words.
~ Geez.
.
Ray Miller
6 months 3 weeks ago
Repressed
My initial impression was that the letter had been consigned to the flames by "him", but I can see that's possibly not the case. I see the heart of the poem is the comparison between "tidy flame" and "messy parts", but I'm not sure that works well. I can just about see a tidy flame, but messy parts is too vague an expression, I think.
Lavender
6 months 3 weeks ago
Hello, Ray,
I appreciate your time with this. I can see your point, and will work on a revision in a few places.
Thank you!
L