what its like to remember you

I can see it in my eyes
That exhaustion found a home inside of me
Carved out a hole and burrowed in
It creeps up my shoulders and wraps around my neck
I think this ache in my body
Is the memories of you
Trying stubbornly to stay in a skin they no longer belong in
Your ghosts are buried in my bones
And you swim freely through my veins
Your secrets spilled in through my pores
Your poison went straight into my heart
And spread to my head
And this must be how you survive
Like a snake shedding its skin
You make a home of a person
Crawl away and leave all your ugly things within
Now I house all your secrets
Your every sin
You ingrained yourself into every inch of me
And my body is no longer mine
Its just a prison turning to stone
And i'm trapped within

Author's Note

Started with a simple concept and ran with it. Any input/advice is welcome and appreciated.

Reviews

[Andrew Nelson Stewart]

This is like sailing with the ocean of infiniteness no pauses in the sail of emotions and most importantly thy heart.
"Crawl away and leave all your ugly things within
Now I house all your secrets
Your every sin
You ingrained yourself into every inch of me
And my body is no longer mine
Its just a prison turning to stone."

Spoke of a Dyed-In-The Wool, a deep down to the very core of nonphysical force that spins our worlds constantly in moments of consciousness and subconsciously finding a demagogue or leader to your own inner self. Love and only love , accepting each other's light and darkness like putting a welcome mat on your front door for that person to know he can stay like a stone sinking to the floor of an ocean. The metaphors you included are rare and uniquely unravels a passage way to a different room filled with a peculiar feelings that only you know how it feels, caused you lived it. I'm only reading it, but you spoke the real you, in poetry we write from the soul not from the forced rules on how to write. To me poetry is a lot like woodcarving , craving that perfect masterpiece and sometimes bleeding in the process to make it. But only , only you know its true meaning and unique curves and markings. Only observers can feel the wood of your emotions but you've created art and the emotions with a different story each time you wood- carve . Keep writing poetry on bones around you and keep on wood carving . Sincerely your friend in poetry and life.

[Stefano Segnan]

Firstly, I think the description is quite good and developed. Secondly, try not using only fullstops, add a comma, exclamation mark or whatever, so that some verses might have more emphasis than others. Lastly, try experimenting with a rhythmic structure (not to be confused with rhyme), punctuation is a way of doing so. Overall quite good keep writing.

[Fading-to-Gray]

Thanks for your review, I will edit the punctuation when I have some time :)