the bed

A Poem By Madeline // 12/5/2019

make myself a martyr to your name
the syllables crush me
under their weight
and all the days begin to run together,
begin to look the same
while the hollows beneath my eyes
grow thick with bloodless veins

this is you on me
don't you see?
this is the shape
your essence takes
this is the shape.

I am the bed
unmade.

Comments

That's funny! (Hoping it is

That's funny! (Hoping it is supposed to be kind of funny.) Makes sense at the same time. : )
Nice job!

Allyson D. | Thu, 12/05/2019

Jill L. Boone

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

Lovely as always, Maddie!

Lovely as always, Maddie! Your images are consistently evocative. As you know, I love reading your work :)

E | Mon, 12/09/2019

"You were not meant to fit into a shallow box built by someone else." -J. Raymond

:)

Lol. love this. :)

Hannah D. | Wed, 12/18/2019

"Reason itself is a matter of faith. It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all." - G. K. Chesterton

thank you, lovelies! this is

thank you, lovelies! this is intended to be quite serious actually...haha...perhaps I ought to tweak it if that's not coming through! someone being a "bed" is a metaphor...pliable, something used, something taken for granted, etc. it's essentially about conforming to someone else entirely, until you lose your own identity (quite heavy, actually! lol). And the end is supposed to signify that "the bed" this person has become doesn't even warrant enough attention to be made--and has unmade themselves in the process. know writers aren't usually supposed to explain their own work, but thought this warranted some clarification! thanks so much for reading!

Madeline | Wed, 12/18/2019

everything was better when/you would call and I'd be like/yeah babe, no way

Hi Madeline! This is good!

Hi Madeline! This is good! There are lots of poems that have multiple interpretations, and often the author isn't around to clarify which is "right." So I'm glad you did!

To me, this makes the poem multi-dimensional, a layered piece; you can read it as lighthearted, with most of the poem describing the object, and the last two lines the answer to the riddle. Or, on deeper reading, you can find this metaphor - I know poems like this. Poems I don't have on the tip of my tongue, but which I remember reading a second time and being struck by how much darker, or how much more grave, or how different an insinuation I got from it than the first read. Those are always the coolest poems :P :D

Hannah D. | Sun, 01/05/2020

"Reason itself is a matter of faith. It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all." - G. K. Chesterton

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