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Unbroken
by Amie GoldaThe salty words die on my mouth
Premature deaths like aborted children
That fade before they make it out into the world
Enough to make a difference
And my tears are swallowed up by the night
Because I am just too tired to cry or say anything
All the while the ink remains stale and stagnant in my pen
I die each day the cycle repeats itself
Like a hollow, lonesome song of death
And a cycle of cocooning silence that kills any signs of growth within my soul
Sometimes I wonder if I've shed too much or too little and lost myself in the process
But as things go I am too numb to even care
I die each day, my history erased because it was never written
As unsaid words remain the unspoken and unsung songs remain toneless
And I am left here, the invisible dwarf, the unbroken. 03/10/2010 Author's Note: I am working to make this better. This draft is very raw.
In the meantime your comments would matter much to help me season and cook this better. So fire away and thanks if you do.
Posted on 03/10/2010
Copyright © 2026 Amie Golda
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 03/11/10 at 05:49 PM Moving piece of writing. Only the author knows whether it's been taken as far as it can go as a poem, but personally, I like it the way it is. Especially as I can stronly relate to it as a fellow poet, though never put it down in writing in these terms. Vive la difference! |
| Posted by Joe Cramer on 03/13/10 at 12:33 AM ... excellent..... |
| Posted by Joan Serratelli on 03/15/10 at 07:45 PM If this is a rough draft; I can't wait for the rewrite. This is superb- wonderful as is- thank you. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 03/15/10 at 11:48 PM First up -- I appreciate the trouble you take with titles, recognising that they're not just ANNOUNCEMENTS, but can influence a reader's perspective; in this case, you've introduced ambiguity, which might imply promise or resignation [or probably something else I haven't considered :]
As for editing, I'd be inclined to cut out the superfluous stuff, which would sharpen its bluntness :) For instance, 'And my tears are swallowed up by the night' might be better as 'My tears are swallowed by night'. A few lines might benefit from that treatment; I know that 'skinning' can sometimes result in verse that doesn't precisely reflect the intent of the writer, but that's not always a bad thing [from the reader's point of view]. Still, doubtless you know all that stuff, and I'm just typing to stave off dementia...the 'meat' of this piece offers plenty to chew on, and its wistful-wasteland starkness represents a body in need of minimal dressing.
Finally [at last], even as a 'draft' version, it's a compelling read, and well worth the effort of editing.
Caveat: these comments may bear no resemblance to 'reality' :) |
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