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hey, so I've written a poem and I really need feedback. is it too unstructured to be called poetry? and what would you give it out of 10? be completely honest I really appreciate constructive criticism<3 (btw it's free verse that's why it doesn't rhyme)
the poem:
-Lights are on but nobody’s home.
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The weight of the air in my lungs gets heavier as I open my eyes
Sunshine spills onto my face like thick sugary syrup
I never liked syrupÂ
It was too sweet for my liking
Dreams of me choking on it filled my mind every night
I never died in those dreams
Only struggled for breath till I woke up drenched in sweat
My body moves
As my legs carry my weight
I envy my legs
How strong they must beÂ
to carry so much for so long
The burdenÂ
That is my existence
For a moment I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror
My limbs feel distant
strange
Moving with no thought
Then, I look at my face
A fragile seam of thin thread where feelings would seep through
never again
A slight bump placed on top of it like a sad looking mountain
Thin and droopy
Out of place
And then there are the two small, hollow socketsÂ
Too noticeable against the paleness of my flesh
The ones that feel the most foreignÂ
Fingers scratch and grab at them
Heart beats fast at the sight of them
I think they might knowÂ
How much I despise them
Since they seem to get smallerÂ
Emptier, every time I see them
It made me wonder-
How long would it take them to disappear?
till nothing is left, but the remains of what they used to be?
Who I used to be?
Maybe that won’t be so bad after all.
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twinklelore
Your poem is raw, visceral, and achingly honest, and what stands out most is how deeply it immerses the reader in the quiet chaos of your internal world. The opening line, "Lights are on but nobody’s home," is simple yet profoundly effective, it sets the tone for the emotional dissociation that threads through the entire piece. Lines like "Sunshine spills onto my face like thick sugary syrup" are so vivid, and your immediate follow up,“I never liked syrup”,turns that beautiful image into something suffocating, toxic, even haunting.That juxtaposition is brilliant. Your confession about dreaming of choking on sweetness, of waking up drenched in sweat, feels painfully relatable, and it draws the reader into your experience of anxiety and detachment. When you write, “I envy my legs,” and describe them carrying the burden of your existence, it’s such a heartbreaking personification of strength in contrast to emotional exhaustion. Then we arrive at the mirror, the “fragile seam of thin thread where feelings would seep through”,that line is devastatingly beautiful. It captures the quiet pain of emotional numbness and restraint so well.The anatomical focus on the “two small, hollow sockets” becomes deeply symbolic of how your eyes, the windows to the soul, feel alien and unwanted. The repetition of how they get “smaller, emptier” with time is striking,it made me pause and think about how self loathing creeps in slowly, unnoticeably. Ending with “maybe that won’t be so bad after all” isn’t dramatic, it’s honest, and that quiet resignation hits harder than any loud outburst could. As for structure, free verse is meant to be unruly, to let your thoughts spill naturally without constraint, and your poem uses that freedom perfectly. It flows like a mind trying to make sense of itself. Out of 10, I’d give this a 10, because you’ve clearly tapped into something real and powerful, and I can only imagine how much more your voice will evolve. Keep writing, you’re not just expressing emotion, you're channeling it, and it resonates deeply.
thx for the feedback<3
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Ladzia
i tried to read original, but it's too hard and i translated to my native language. and i REALLY feel it. it feels like panic attack or like this nightmares. i read like 10 (?) lines in english and it's has good rhythm, i love it 10/10
thx for for the feedback glad u enjoyed it<3 what's ur native language?
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