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"SSC8 - Empty"

The crimson stream of my humanity flows, promising to protect, and to enclose. Hosted near is dirt and earth, its damp will aid in giving birth. To a creature, a stealer, a loner, who thrives and lives off me, a donor. I unclasp my eyes from a sleeping guise; scars still remain through your scolding lies. I was everything I could be, everything I thought you wanted me to be. You supped like a baby from my bosom of kindness.

You leech of love.

I had loved you since the instant I knew what love was; you were ideal, ripe with beauty, and devoid of any flaws. I remember the day you sold me my very first kiss, a moment in my life of complete and utter bliss, if only I had known it was a kiss to reminisce; reminisce with a tearstained pain of what could have been. In reality I had kissed a leech who’s clasp over my lips never slackened. Drinking my raw red till drained; you lapped affection like it rained, my veins now forever strained, by you, in life unchained.

Then you left.

My blood and flesh and skin diffused, my soul and mind and spirit abused. Cannot sleep, I forever weep, I feel your fangs in my skin deep. Every tear dribbling down my face is a tear for you, and how I pray embrace. Now you own the stock of me, when you hurt, it hurts me. I care for your warm company, I’m dreaming of your voice, and when your lips meet mine, these wounds will crust, rejoice.

I need you, despite my attempts of denial, I need your touch, and I need your smile. You’ve burrowed your way under my skin, down to my deeper depths way, way within. You know me, you know when I’m calling, so why do I feel like I’m forever falling? Being with you, leech, is like an eternal comfort, the more people you love the more chance of getting hurt. We’re made together, star-crossed, without you I feel simply lost.

And there you were.

Ready to cling onto me, and ingest my soul for good, gleaming of perfection, outside my door you stood. We kissed and kissed and broke apart, your distant gazes warmed my heart, us together, from the start.

You, manipulating leech, you. Crawling back, lurching on my mouth, before moving down a little south. Yet I love you still, always have always will, you’re like a drug, an addictive pill. We grip each other tight, both us brimming with delight. You use me, use me all the time, we don’t pretend, its petty crime.

I tip you back, cup your head in my arms; a smile is response to these sweetest of charms. We fall together, passion ignited, both us soon to be eternally united. This is supposed to be the time of my life; I’ve discovered my future, who I’m to make my wife.

Yet in all this excitement I’m wondering where my heart is, my mind is, my sense is, and why.

I'm meant to be happy.

It was really well written and good use of words etc

If I was to pass criticism I wasn't sure how to read it if you mean. As others have said story/poem. But still, good and I like rhyming :)

It's good, but it's a poem. I found myself trying to keep the rhythm of it, rather than taking in the words and the meaning. This, however, is a personal problem I have with poetry, not your fault.

Not sure I liked the ending though.

FinalFantasyFanatic wrote:
> is rather an insult to the writer

Not only that, but any avid reader will know that many established writers have written in such a style many times before. It's nice to enjoy writing in a specific way, and perhaps even master the technique, but then to turn around and call it your own when it's clearly been around for ages is, well, you get the idea.

Excellent. I've read twice and it's addictive.

Yes, Kyz, do shut up.
I like you, lad, but one thing that really yanks my 2x ball and extended chain is when you write something like that.

It's overwhelming arrogance is quite painful and (although you may not know it) is rather an insult to the writer, implying that they have copied your style because they lack the imagination to have their own.

[S]rargh

Paradox: wrote:
> a nicely adapted version of my own disjointed one line style

Your style?

Oh, and good work with the flow, the rhyme.
I know how hard it is to get right.

Couldn't attempt it again for a while.

As a story, it's somewhat lacking.

As a poem, it's fecking amazing.

Good stuff - on the whole, I enjoyed that. But I expect you'd appreciate some criticism.

The problem is, it sounded for the most part like poetry put into prose; i.e. verses into paragraphs. Therefore we simply read it as if reading a poem, with a sense of rhythm. Reading like this requires concentration, especially when certain words need to be said in certain ways to maintain the rhythm, and the style changes from almost rap to more conventional rhyme as it goes on.

This detracts from the actual story which, in all honesty, appears to be a mere framework so you can write in this style and lacks flair. This may be because, as a writer, you tied yourself downs to pre-set rules much like a rhyming poem has, which could also be why certain words or phrasings seemed out of place and odd.

However, there were plenty of plus points. I understand the reason why you chose such a poetic style and so this suggests what you were trying to do with this was done well. I liked the way in which you used a few non-rhyming sentences to make them stand out, and for the most part, it was well written and the rhythm competently maintained.

As I say, a fine piece on the whole.

Wonderful, beautiful story to read and despite the rhyming, it flowed perfectly. Conjured up some delightful images too.