Poem: Empty

[carahmellow]

Hi! I'm new here... I plan to come back and help critique and read a lot more of your work. I wanted to get some good critiques of my work because I've become a bit more serious about my poetry lately, even though I have written for many years. I just want to hear some thoughts on it I guess. I tend to be a more conversational poet. I prefer to read/listen to that style as well... so I lean into that style when I write. However, I do like challenging myself with flowery prose as well on occasion. Here is the first one I'd like to share.

Empty

Curled away,
In a cave of blankets,
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air
That penetrates your skin and coils around your frail bones.
Your fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensure the coffee you had earlier didn’t make you bigger.
Because the barista definitely put whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure,
But it only makes sense because it was creamier.
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by,
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core.
Because you swore
The day before
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories.

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece.
And when you're done,
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much.

You should have just skipped lunch,
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster

And survived.

[Magpie]

Hi there's a lot of good stuff here. I do think that a lot could be trimmed, there is a lot of repetition and eliminating it would help the poem greatly. Also on another note, I know with some people it may be preference but the trend these days is to not capitalise the beginning of each line. Some people see it as archaic, but mostly it will help with the flow and keep the emphasis in the right places. 

Empty

Curled away,
In a cave of blankets,
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air - 'curled away' and 'cocooning' are the same thing. This could be condensed into something liked 
'Cocooned in a cave of blankets from the freezing...'

It might just be me but 'freezing 75-degree air' confused me first time round. I work in celsius so it took me a while to get what you were meaning. Perhaps a mention of a summer's day or something similar may help.

that penetrates your the skin and coils around your frail bones. - good image.
Your Fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensuring the you had earlier coffee didn’t make you bigger.
Because The barista definitely put used whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure,
But it only makes sense because It was creamier?
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by,
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core.
Because you swore
The day before
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories.  - do you need any of this stanza?

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece.
And when you're done,
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much.

You should have just skipped lunch,
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster

And survived.

You get the idea. I don't want to go into a full line by line when it's in mild crit.
I like the conversational tone it works well for this poem, I  think it could be a lot less verbose and repetitive, without losing that conversational tone, and it would tighten up the poem nicely.
It opens up with some good imagery in the first few lines, 'cave of blankets' and cold air coiling around frail bones. I would of liked to have seen more imagery throughout the poem but it kind of ended there.

You've got some good stuff to work from here, look forward to reading more.

[carahmellow]

Hi there's a lot of good stuff here. I do think that a lot could be trimmed, there is a lot of repetition and eliminating it would help the poem greatly. Also on another note, I know with some people it may be preference but the trend these days is to not capitalise the beginning of each line. Some people see it as archaic, but mostly it will help with the flow and keep the emphasis in the right places. 

Empty

Curled away,
In a cave of blankets,
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air - 'curled away' and 'cocooning' are the same thing. This could be condensed into something liked 
'Cocooned in a cave of blankets from the freezing...'

It might just be me but 'freezing 75-degree air' confused me first time round. I work in celsius so it took me a while to get what you were meaning. Perhaps a mention of a summer's day or something similar may help.

that penetrates your the skin and coils around your frail bones. - good image.
Your Fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensuring the you had earlier coffee didn’t make you bigger.
Because The barista definitely put used whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure,
But it only makes sense because It was creamier?
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by,
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core.
Because you swore
The day before
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories.  - do you need any of this stanza?

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece.
And when you're done,
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much.

You should have just skipped lunch,
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster

And survived.

You get the idea. I don't want to go into a full line by line when it's in mild crit.
I like the conversational tone it works well for this poem, I  think it could be a lot less verbose and repetitive, without losing that conversational tone, and it would tighten up the poem nicely.
It opens up with some good imagery in the first few lines, 'cave of blankets' and cold air coiling around frail bones. I would of liked to have seen more imagery throughout the poem but it kind of ended there.

You've got some good stuff to work from here, look forward to reading more.

Its funny you mention that stanza... because I put it in after the poem was fully fleshed out, and I have been debating removing it... so you helped me see it a little more clearly, and that it doesnt actually fit and needs removed. I agree with better imagery. I will definitely work on that.

[Knot]

Hi carahmellow.

I like the title, but I think you lose sight of it towards the end.


Curled away,
In a cave of blankets, ........................................................... like the opening, the retreat to childhood comforts.
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air
That penetrates your skin and coils around your frail bones. ...... do you need these lines? They don't seem to play a part in what follows.
Your fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensure the coffee you had earlier didn’t make you bigger.
Because the barista definitely put whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure, ........................................................... to go from 'definitely' to 'don't know for sure' doesn't work, for me. Something like 'You'd swear they did-must have done / because that explains why / it was creamier (or just cut the line.)
But it only makes sense because it was creamier.
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by, .............................................. don't think you need this. And shouldn't it be 'the moment'?
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core. .................. I don't think you need this.
Because you swore
The day before .................................................................. not keen on the swore/before rhyme. Seems off, tonally.
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories. ......... I don't have a problem with this verse, I like the first line, but then I wonder if you couldn't develop the 'obsession', put some flesh on its bones, so to speak. (But discard 'chore', that's too mild.)

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece. ........................ I like the 'gum' example. But what precedes it is simply telling. Perhaps use it to follow on from 'would do better'? For instance,

Because you swore
the day before
that you would do better:

that you would not
count the moments
until you can switch out
your gum for a fresh piece
...


And when you're done, ....................................... 'When you're done' what? When did you leave the cave of blankets?
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much. ........................................................... same with the 'gum'. Might work better as an example of what you promised not to do?

that you would not
use your bedside journal
to calculate ...

You should have just skipped lunch, .................. personally, I'd like the poem to end here. Though that may be a bit too bleak for some.
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better. ...................... all of this feels like a separate (though related) poem.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster .................................. Is this the constantly screaming obsession?

And survived.


I can't tell who the speaker/voice is. At the beginning it sounds like the sufferer's negative voice, but then that changes at the end (for no reason that I can see.)


Best, Knot

.

[carahmellow]

Hi carahmellow.

I like the title, but I think you lose sight of it towards the end.


Curled away,
In a cave of blankets, ........................................................... like the opening, the retreat to childhood comforts.
Cocooning yourself from the freezing 75-degree air
That penetrates your skin and coils around your frail bones. ...... do you need these lines? They don't seem to play a part in what follows.
Your fingers are wrapped around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensure the coffee you had earlier didn’t make you bigger.
Because the barista definitely put whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure, ........................................................... to go from 'definitely' to 'don't know for sure' doesn't work, for me. Something like 'You'd swear they did-must have done / because that explains why / it was creamier (or just cut the line.)
But it only makes sense because it was creamier.
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wait—
Listening to the clock tick by, .............................................. don't think you need this. And shouldn't it be 'the moment'?
Waiting for a moment you can sneak out of your room
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the emptiness eating at your core. .................. I don't think you need this.
Because you swore
The day before .................................................................. not keen on the swore/before rhyme. Seems off, tonally.
That you would do better.

The obsession is constantly screaming.
Making it impossible to ignore,
It’s a constant chore,
That you have to feed.
But not actually feed, because that includes calories. ......... I don't have a problem with this verse, I like the first line, but then I wonder if you couldn't develop the 'obsession', put some flesh on its bones, so to speak. (But discard 'chore', that's too mild.)

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece. ........................ I like the 'gum' example. But what precedes it is simply telling. Perhaps use it to follow on from 'would do better'? For instance,

Because you swore
the day before
that you would do better:

that you would not
count the moments
until you can switch out
your gum for a fresh piece
...


And when you're done, ....................................... 'When you're done' what? When did you leave the cave of blankets?
You open up your bedside journal,
Not to talk about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much. ........................................................... same with the 'gum'. Might work better as an example of what you promised not to do?

that you would not
use your bedside journal
to calculate ...

You should have just skipped lunch, .................. personally, I'd like the poem to end here. Though that may be a bit too bleak for some.
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered in hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better. ...................... all of this feels like a separate (though related) poem.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room, because they won’t let you walk.
They'll tell you to eat your food,
Or they'll resort to the tube
and that if you had gone on longer,
You could have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster .................................. Is this the constantly screaming obsession?

And survived.


I can't tell who the speaker/voice is. At the beginning it sounds like the sufferer's negative voice, but then that changes at the end (for no reason that I can see.)


Best, Knot

.

Thank you! this helps a lot, and gave me some really good things to play with and incorporate. Just hearing your guy's thoughts are helping me tremendously.

[carahmellow]

I worked on my poem a bit, and wanted to share the finished piece. I changed some of the wording, and tried to be a bit more intentional with the ones I chose. As I loved the conversational quality of the first draft... it definitely needed bolder word choices at times... as some of you mentioned. It may still be a little wrong, but I think I'm pretty happy with it. I'm constantly changing my poems all the time. I will probably come back to this one in a year, and see a million things I would change. But that's growth I suppose.

Empty

Curled away,
In a cave of blankets,
Cocooning yourself from the freezing summer air
That penetrates your skin and coils around your frail bones.
Fingers snaked around your wrists,
Or laid directly on your hips,
To ensure the coffee you had earlier didn’t make you bigger.
Because the barista definitely put whole milk in it.
You don’t know for sure,
But it only makes sense because it was creamier.
Wasn’t it?

You continue to wither—
Listening to the clock tick by,
Anticipating the moment you can prowl to the kitchen
To pour another glass of diet something
And satiate the empty abyss eating at your core.
Because you swore
The day before
That you would do better.

It’s all you think about—
When you’ll be able to put something else in your mouth.
But you pretend you’re fine,
When in reality, you’re only thinking about the next time
You can switch out your gum for a fresh piece.
And when you're done,
You’ll open up your bedside journal,
Not to lament about your day,
But to calculate the way
You made yourself bigger.

10 + 5 + 50 + 100 =
Too much.

You should have just skipped lunch,
Because at this rate, you’ll fail.
Who cares if you’re frail
And covered with hair?
Your entire identity will come crumbling to the ground.
Because this is what you're good at.

So tomorrow, you will do better.
Tomorrow,

You’ll be in the hospital,
Being wheeled into your room because they won’t let you walk.
A hanger for a smock
That obscures what you've done.
They tell you to eat your food,
Or they’ll resort to the tube
And that if you had gone on longer,
Been a little bit stronger,
You would have died.

So you chose to thrive.
You looked into the eyes
Of this heinous monster

And survived.