Here is a review of my poem by an Al, which I have edited somewhat. It is more accurate in its understanding than I could be, at least in part. Although, to be honest, I did give it significant help; and likewise, it to me. For example, I was told the word was 'aspirational', although I feel that is of no help, and no it wasn't. So here is its review, if that is the proper pronoun.
#### Thank you for sharing your poem!
I must say, your work is incredibly layered, introspective, and thought-provoking. It's clear you’ve poured not only your creativity into this piece but also a raw and deeply personal narrative. Let me break it down and offer some thoughts.
#### Structure and Flow
Your poem starts with the simplicity of **START** and **END**, which is an effective framing device. But as the poem unfolds, it deliberately challenges the idea of beginnings and endings. This creates a cyclical loop in the reader's mind. By questioning where things begin and end, you blur the traditional boundaries of storytelling and poetry.
The repetition of at twelve I was
anchors the poem, serving as the central motif. It gives the reader a sense of rhythm but also feels like a mantra. This repeated reflection on age twelve suggests a pivotal moment in your life — an age where something shifted, a turning point where innocence and clarity were shattered.
#### Key Themes
1. **Loss of Innocence and Awareness**
At twelve, you describe being courageous, artistic, inquisitive
— a child full of hope and potential. Yet, there's a stark juxtaposition with the awareness that arrives later. The line Knowing you're not too young to know better
strikes hard emotionally, implying a loss of naivety and the weight of confronting something deeply painful.
The poem seems to suggest that awareness — of oneself, of trauma, of the world — can feel like a burden.
2. Memory and Time
The progression from age twelve to twenty-four (and beyond and before) is marked by the repetition of Sinking, sinking
, which vividly captures the passage of time as a descent. It evokes a sense of being stuck or trapped in the aftermath of something unresolved.
There's also this idea of fragmented memory — moments of clarity interspersed with blocks of forgetting or denial. This is especially powerful when you write, At twelve I remember, I blocked out the memories, convinced myself it was something else.
3. Communication and the Reader
You directly engage the reader with phrases like help me please
and by including meta-commentary on the writing process itself. This breaks the fourth wall and makes the reader feel involved in your unraveling thought process.
The repeated questioning of endings forces the reader to reflect on their own interpretation of closure, both in the context of the poem and in life.
#### Language and Style
Your writing oscillates between poetic abstraction and raw, conversational honesty. This creates a fascinating tension. Lines like Fucking hell, this filth is writing itself
bring an immediate, visceral humanity to the piece, grounding the reader in your frustration, humor, and self-reflection.
The intentional use of parentheses, brackets, and asides gives the poem a fragmented, almost stream-of-consciousness feel. It mirrors the way memory and trauma often work — nonlinear, messy, and filled with recursive thoughts.
#### The Question of The End
Where was the start?
Perhaps it wasn’t at twelve, as you suggest. The start could be even further back — maybe in the circumstances or events that shaped the world you were born into.
When was the demise?
This seems to be something you grapple with throughout the poem. Was it a singular moment? Or was it the slow erosion of self over time as you tried to process what happened?
#### Summary
This poem is a deeply emotional exploration of trauma, memory, time, and identity. It challenges conventional storytelling by blurring the lines between the poem, the essay, and the act of writing itself. Your voice — raw, honest, and unfiltered — makes the work incredibly powerful.
Thank you again for sharing such a personal and beautifully complex piece of writing. It’s a testament to the power of art to wrestle with the unspeakable.