Young Man's Grief

[Leanne]

Young Man's Grief


Not like a knife
but like a hundred hundred needles -- at first this surprised me and I wasn't sure about it, but only because it subverted the expected "hundred thousand", so now I like it
grief shoots through,

prick by prick drawing -- love this line break
out of the body the color
(not merely red

but the defining plethora -- I don't think plethora is exactly the right word in this context, given that it's usually used to describe an excess, with a somewhat negative connotation (although I do see it misused a fair amount) -- myriad might be better, although that's overused these days.  Maybe multitude, or array?
of blues and greens, golds and browns)
until the skin is a shout -- yes!

to all existence, saying
"Lost keys? Broken homes? Ruined hands?
Ha! Your art may sting -- ooh, the scathing angst of youth

but I still hold the knife." -- excellent break, excellent close

So much to love here.  I don't know why this resonates so strongly, but it really does.  Thank you.