Machtlos - Shakespeare's Monkeys

Machtlos

Tödliche Liebe

It started with an itch

Do you think I could pin point it

Days

Weeks

It got worse

Now it feels like bites

I look at my arm
Expecting to see a wasp

Nothing

Just that sense that I'm being bitten

Even as I look

There it is again

Oh how I want to scratch at it

The need to strip the flesh off my arms
So

Exquisite

But I don't

I grit my teeth
Glad to be

Feeling

Aaaah

But then

Then the tremors come

My arms want to do their own thing
Whilst my mind
Well

It looks on

Arguing with itself

When I'm alone
It's fine

I creep into the shadows
Feeling this flesh tremble

Powerless to stop it

Not wanting it to stop

My mind no longer is in control

The nervous system has disconnected
Refusing to obey my commands

It would kill me instead

It thinks it has the power

Killing is not power

It would kill me for my transgressions against it

Whilst I would pardon it

I let it tremble

Twitch

Burn

Distract me

If I did not

I would hear the chittering again

That

That I could not forgive

Comments

Callooh -

I have to say that although Idon't know what exactly you are writing about, it very much reminds me of withdrawl, the feeling of my skin screaming at me.

the writing certainly gets the point across, I do find the spacing somewhat distracting. also the word "whilst" seems too - I don't know - highbrow for such a raw piece. perhaps that is my own language preference. Overall I think it is well done, I would like to see it tighter in appearance and wording. I think it would deliver the point more effectively with fewer words, less telling, more showing (I sound like a high school english teacher!)

-ruth

----- Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-Ekki-PTANG. Zoom-Boing. Z'nourrwringmm

Mosquitobyte -

Thanks for your comments Ruth, I had considered most of your points whilst I wrote the piece, choosing to go the "telling" path as it highlights the disconnection; at least in my mind.

The piece is not about withdrawal, though I can see how you got that interpretation, it does fit. It's actually just what it seems to be, sensations without obvious cause which evolve into greater intensity. A physical manifestation of a mental abberation.

The physical symptoms are here seen as assaulting the body and whilst not exactly enjoying it, there is an acceptance, for it distracts from the voices in the mind.

As for "whilst" seeming high-brow, *shrug*, it's just another word to me. he he.

I will see if I can take your advice by way of putting together another piece on this matter, a more visual piece.

Thanks again for your input, you've given me something to think about.

End.

Mos.

Rene' -

Hey Mos, I have perused this poem several times before coming back to comment. I understand the spacing as signifying the disjointed thought processes. The poem itself tends to remind me of my daughter fighting the mania side of her bipolar disorder. And fight she did, with herself and with me.

As an aside, I LOVE the word 'whilst' must the part of me that loves the Romantic and Victorian ages (both of which I have recently studied in school). I love the feel of old language mixed in with modern, kind of like a throw back to our beginnings or maybe even like a chance to do something over and maybe get it right the second time around. Your writing always intrigues me though....

----- LIFE: I messed up, can I have a 'do over'?

I am orbiting, I don't know where, but I am orbiting something!

Mosquitobyte -

Thanks as always Rene, my work often intruiges me also. Most times that I write, I'm not...er....not really there, if you catch my meaning. It does explain the varying differences betwixt my pieces.

End.

Mos.