swept

[Jukon]

fingerprints and camping trips
intense conversation
with her trembling lips. her baggage;
heavy, but she's "dealing with it."
her shoulders sag,
she holds her past
high above the overpass.
and I just want to grab her hand,
lead her to me
find a way to hold her pain.

she's still wearing that same sweater,
because it's long enough
to hide the scars.
and every motion; seemed forced
and unfocused.
a bag of bones painted
with a smile, but even paint
begins to crack.

so as she falls into pieces
I'll sweep her under the rug.

I'll continue to walk all over her.

[Emily]

how is she dealing with it if her shouders are still heavy? and if she holds her past.
I guess she's trying huh? Gotta give her that. I like the bit where you write 'high above the overpass' Those words could fill a million minds with imagery.
It's nice that you want to lead her to you and hold her pain. as if that alone would take it away. we can only dream of it being that simple as it is in verse. well written and honest in sound. Humble in nature.

she's still wearing that same sweater,
because it's long enough
to hide the scars.

probably my favourite bit. those three lines above. are probably my favourite bit. it shoes her vulnerable side and yet, shes still trying to hide it from someone who knows. but you cant hide pain. the little buggers always on show. it rears its ugly head when you think youre looking pretty. and it goes away and comes back again like a bloody boomarang. but she can try and try again. one day she might fool them.

and every motion; seemed forced
and unfocused.
a bag of bones painted
with a smile, but even paint
begins to crack.

yes it does. and then the ugly canvas underneath shows. and she cant put a long sweater on that can she? she cant hide everything forever.

so as she falls into pieces ------------nice
I'll sweep her under the rug.-------------as we do

I'll continue to walk all over her.

if shes low, thats what people do. I liked your last line. it shows human nature. it shows our ugly side. it shows me.


beautiful work jukon.

thank you.

[Soule]

fingerprints and camping trips
intense conversation
with her trembling lips. her baggage;
heavy, but she's "dealing with it."
her shoulders sag,
she holds her past
high above the overpass.
and I just want to grab her hand,
lead her to me
find a way to hold her pain.

This was beautifully written, my friend. Wording was fluent and fell right off the tongue. I really liked those last three lines. Felt like they had the most impact and fluency together. Everything else worked but this triplet had the most cohesiveness. Y'know? Those three lines told more story together than most poems do in their entirety.

she's still wearing that same sweater,
because it's long enough
to hide the scars.
and every motion; seemed forced
and unfocused.
a bag of bones painted
with a smile, but even paint
begins to crack.

Another legitimate stanza with a fluent ending. A bag of bones painted with a smile, but even paint begins to crack. That's great stuff man. In all honesty, you could've almost done this poem in three triplets and had a perfect haiku. The rest is good but nothing in consistency as your ending three lines in the first two stanzas.

so as she falls into pieces
I'll sweep her under the rug.

I'll continue to walk all over her.

Fucking damn. You just proved my point that this poem could've been cut down to three triplets and it would've been perfect in consistency. Not taking away from anything else but those nine lines I pointed out were the perfect highlights that really made this poem the beautiful, dark masterpiece it is.

So yeah, nominated.

[TheIllyricist]

fingerprints and camping trips
intense conversation
with her trembling lips. her baggage;
heavy, but she's "dealing with it."
her shoulders sag,
she holds her past
high above the overpass.
and I just want to grab her hand,
lead her to me
find a way to hold her pain.

Right away you got me with this idea of memories. Fingerprints of our past, camping trips where we sit around a fire and have 'intense conversation'. Trembling lips, apprehensive of speaking about the troubles of her past. We all have our baggage that silently weighs upon our shoulders; and invisible boulder. Though we all know it's there by the dismissals of others, the "dealing with it" phrases. Or, my personal favorite "I'm fine." We all want to say something right, to make that right choice and be able to help yet the answer eludes us. 'Find a way to hold her pain' may be cheesy or corny, but right now I don't really care so much about that. The feelings here feel real, they feel authentic. It's a hard thing to present.

she's still wearing that same sweater,
because it's long enough
to hide the scars.
and every motion; seemed forced
and unfocused.
a bag of bones painted
with a smile, but even paint
begins to crack.

Her body and her sweater could both be scene as the bag of the bones. Her skin covering her bones, though I definitely see it more with the sweater long and baggy enough to cover her bones. Bones that are brittle and stressed, weak from taking so many scars and the baggage of her life weighing her down. Smiles can deceive, but even those can fade over time. Chinks in the armor until the armor falls to pieces.

so as she falls into pieces
I'll sweep her under the rug.

We hide our troubles under the rug, put the skeletons in the closet. These are the things we do. Once things get truly ugly we seem to want to get out of the way rather than sweat it out and work to glue the pieces back together or at least try.

I'll continue to walk all over her.

As said right before this line, we walk over the things that have broken and try not to pay them any mind because it's difficult to do so. At least, that's how I feel reading this. It's ugly, and not meant to be pretty. Yet the words themselves are a beautiful encapsulation of that darker side.

Really well done, Juk. This felt honest and true. Thanks for a great read.