I’m coffin in a yard of graves. Like often but now dark and strange. The cost of when I start to change, is lost wits and a heart of rage.
With practice came a new routine. A habit made for you to leave. In fact it saved the few you need, from havin to stray and loosin me.
So every night I rose to dred. And wake alive in rows of dead. Then weak and weathered I’d find my way home. To piece together the night now unknown.
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The crazy part about this piece is that its a true story. When I used to drink a lot in my youth I trained myself into a habbit to protect my friends and loved ones of running away. When I would start to black out my people would tell me or if I felt it first I would just run…..and I lived close to a huge grave yard that was private and out of hearing distance from the living. The keepers knew me by name and didn’t fuss because I never bothered anyone or did damage.
Wow! This is a great piece. I love the rhyme and tone your speaker creates. My suggestion is to work on the middle portion. It sounds a little choppy. Also, work on the title of your piece. I feel like you would gain a lot if your title was in your piece.
Thank you, i appreciate the good advice, I will work on both…….But its hard to get my mental state back there so long after the events and its even harder to fix the words when I am so strict on myself with rhyme scheme. When i write my stuff its a venting and so it comes out very fast. Then after its out the emotions are gone and trying to go back and fix things always seems to make it worse but i will keep trying.