he must really miss his friend to commit suicide to be with him.

"hold" not "ahold" and a period after it. Some of it has a nice rhythm, but the lapses distract. This sort of thing needs rhythm, I think, to carry it, especially when all the stanzas have 4 lines. example: I've buried myself inside mistakes, Made myself a home, Here I'll hide forever, Secure and still alone.

Broken could lose the space.

S2 L4/L5... the repeat of "comfort" is not as strong as it could be. maybe L4 starts "offers sanctuary ...". I would also end with a colon on L4 to deliver L5. an interesting look at a subculture of the US that i struggle to comprehend. i really believe i would have a hard time living there... so what's around the bend and over the next hill?

Humm, u r funny :) Thanks for putting a smile on my face finally. I was amused by ur comment. I am actually a size 0 LOL, buy my clothes right off the mannikins ;). Spirited is how I would describe myself. You sir, I guess, are in your 40s? Single eh?

It's good to see I've annoyed you enough to warrant my own composed-in-ten-seconds poem. Immortality at last! Thanks, and excuse me while I wilt under the heat of your satirical laser beam.

Very funny...not that I can relate or anything.

i'll comment later; i am intrigued by this one.

Starts out like a rap. Would be nice to keep that going.

The funny thing with the first two stanzas is that they're a sort of guarded joy, almost like you don't expect anything to last, and it bothers you, whereas the next three stanzas sound like you don't care about that fact. It's much the same with starting 'game over' and ending 'now resume' - I like that facet. But, of course, good luck with it :-)

Not keen on 'shoulders sag' - it sounds like you give up on everything, whereas the rest of the poem is less like that. I'd change it to 'let the shoulders down', like you're letting blinds down on the windows, letting your guard down and a million other relaxed cliches. 'Menstruating sky' is hilarious.

I'd agree with Imp, this is lyrical. But less rap, less Bjork and more Emiliana Torrini.

The voices in my head are crying 'image! image!' Perhaps play around with the sound of 'poetry' and make it sound like 'pottery' - something being wiped off clay. I'd like that.

Aside from 'I found God inside her face' I rather like this.

What exactly are you F-Logging? Make line 3 straight iambs ('fire into the midst') and perhaps the 'rolled sweated and panted' line wants rhythmic tweaking. Dovina's right about the rap-ness of this. Good poeme.

Marvellous to see you still alive and writing, Mr. C. This is clearly a poeme about doing something naughty.

I personally love a good long slee[.

Love the breaking of broken and the flying of the flies. And presumably you're aiming for the breakages, the incompleteness making something whole and concrete?

The best game you can play with telesales is to pretend that you're interested in it as a career and ask them all about their job. See how long you can string them along for before they hang up. Love the torture of geese. Glorious.

Love it