'but then their scurrying feet step on my most perfect creation', incredible, you made such a dark topic into such a beautiful piece of writing

there's this very unique authorial voice and slant, with this detatched irritation. but yet i think it isn't taken far enough. i would love to see this persona wax absolute purple prose at his "work", seeing as they are such a proud figure.

Ouch, that hurt just to read. 

&#x200B;

"Filling etches on the tarmac surface with red  
Spreading an austere grounded levelness  
I could never have achieved before"

&#x200B;

This part was well written as it makes you imagine the whole feeling of the character without being too obvious about it. The character seems to be annoyed by his inability to find inner peace and this is hell of a way to write it down. It sums up the general idea of your poem and the rest follows in similar fashion until the end, where the character finds irrational pride in his own destruction and loathes in the new found freedom unbothered by the challenges ones life might offer. Haunting, but beautiful.


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Blood trickling onto the pavement

Filling etches on the tarmac surface with red

Spreading an austere grounded levelness

I could never have achieved before

.

Will my head splatter into a million pieces?

Or will a pool form in disciplined fashion

From a concise crack in my skull

.

I imagine them finding me in slow motion

A scream or two

But then their scurrying feet step on my most perfect creation

And their shoes smear my whole life's craft

And they carry me away

From the serenity I finally produced

But I no longer remain

To be annoyed



https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/v57xxp/crème_brulée/ib8gzdj?utm_medium=android_app&amp;utm_source=share&amp;context=3

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/v537fj/a_couplet_of_kids/ib8has6?utm_medium=android_app&amp;utm_source=share&amp;context=3

Level