I am finally getting started on the Open Pen submissions that were sent over the summer!
Open Pen is a critique opportunity that I run on this blog. Anyone is welcome to submit a work through the form on the bottom of the Open Pen page so long as they have offered constructive feedback for someone else. Unless the author requests otherwise, I post the piece on my blog, send them feedback from myself, and anyone else can offer feedback.
Today, we have a short, non-fiction piece from Readloveexpress22 who blogs over at A Writer’s Paradise. She would like to know how the emotions come across and how you interact with the imaginative nature of her descriptions, but she is happy to hear other feedback as well.
Thank you for taking the time to make a few comments on her piece. Even short, simply comments are very helpful.
If you would like to submit a piece of writing to be critique, you can read the rules and submit on the Open Pen page, though I will warn you that I have quite the queue going at the moment so it may be a while before your piece is posted.
Merry Christmas and God bless,
Don’t Believe Us, Writers and Poets by Readloveexpress22
Don’t believe us writers and poets, when we write about the realities and philosophies of life. We’ll make it dramatic in a way, so that you won’t even realize when we’ve gone to the depths of your hearts and seized the emotions that you have hidden behind closed doors.
We’ll show you the stars as they make love to galaxies. We’ll show you the sun-kissed love of two best friends. We’ll show you the resplendent dance of lost love as their owner’s eyes flit to each other across distances. We’ll show you the glorious domination between two broken hearts as they search for an escape through sensual touches and warm, honey-dripped words. We’ll show you the drowning ocean in that boy’s eyes who broke your heart in high school. We’ll remind you of how the girl you met in college tasted of wild, raspberries and sunshine. We’ll make you fantasize about how you’ll love the fire your soul mate will set you on. We’ll make you cherish that burning need for him that will send tingles through your entire being, paralyzing you so no one but him can revive you. We’ll make you remember how your crush waving at you breathed life back into your gasping lungs that was starving for her.
We’ll show you the purples, blues and reds covering our skins as we let the ink empty out our souls onto this blank paper of nothingness. We’ll show you the agony we feel when the words choking our throats refuse to take the leap onto these overflowing preservations of our thoughts and emotions. We’ll romanticize our demons so our pain doesn’t seem anything like the nightmare it is. We’ll make it seem so beautifully addicting that soon you’ll find yourself craving our words of anguish because they make you feel. We’ll write so we can escape our hellish minds. We’ll use these words that strike the cords of your soul and make you move to the beats of our mania. We’ll make you feel what we do and convince you of the beauty underlying in it. Don’t believe us writers and poets as we stimulate your mind through our anxiety rich turmoil. We’ll escape into you reader’s lives without you even catching on. We’ll derive the juice for our madness from your secretive minds. When you think that you have an insight into our troubled minds, that’s when we’ll jump in and figure out the expanse of your mind. There is nothing more captivating to us writers than you who read the mortal words of our immortal labyrinths of arcane paroxysms.
Read our dramatic, passionate words stringed together with dripping emotions but don’t believe them. Don’t believe a word of what we write. Those eyes that we live to describe never emote as much as we portray. That boy whose eyes hold oceans who you find yourself getting lost in, will break your heart. That girl who tasted like the wild will run away; the wild never stay in one place. That’s life- reckless and all-consuming. The madness you see on these ink blotted papers are not you.
Don’t delude yourself into believing our words when we speak of heartbreak at 11 am while sipping the coffee they used to like. Don’t believe us even though our words are relatable. You’ll drown in our endless search for madness and metaphors. You’ll lose yourself so fast in these mesmerizing words and soon, you’ll just be skin and bones trained in these fanatic emotions of ours. Rawness is our way of reminding you of your old tender wounds, so we don’t feel alone in our insanity. We pull at our skin and cry out when our thoughts overwhelm us. We write with our shaky hands until the ink runs out or our hands are numb. We’re always on the brink of plague like madness. Don’t believe us or you’ll fall right in like us into this abyss. Don’t believe us writers and poets because we’ll turn you inside out. We’ll terrify you of the emotions that you are capable of feeling. Don’t believe us writers and poets.