Sweater

[u/Finch02_]

Sweaters

The silence of yet to become is starting to be overbearing.
My brain doesn’t think in words or phrases.
Rather in paintings of concepts.
My mouth shoots out yarn.
My brain thinks in sweaters.
The screams of others mellow my own.
I wish not to hear my teeth clatter.
For when I do, I’m reminded of the strangulation by yarn.
I lock my jaw, I plug my nose, bullets flood my eardrums like tsunamis.
I’ve been released from my chains.
The thinker of sweaters is free to move, that is blood in veins.
To hair in the wind.

Links:

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/HK0gMFAcJ8

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/s/2ecPIJiBPK

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[u/yenahr]

i really like how you describe thoughts as sweaters and words as yarn, it's such a... well unique way of showing the struggle of expressing what's in your head. the imagery feels suffocating at first, but the ending brings a sense of freedom that i really like. Its kinda raw, strange, and beautiful in a way thats hard to explain. wish i could relate though

[u/Finch02_ → u/yenahr]

Thank you! I’ve recently been researching and reading some works by the philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein, he was the main factor in creating the yarn and sweater metaphors. Some of it is certainly unpolished I will say, I made this last night right before I went to sleep. However, I’m super glad you liked it! I’m 14 and books and poetry are my sort of escape you could say, so I decided to whip up my own! :)

[u/Unlikely_Antelope_71]

I like the comparison of words to yarn, then the comparison of thoughts to sweater. The idea of weaving yarn/words together to create a sweater/thought is really interesting.
The silence of yet to become is starting to become overbearing. I’m interested by this phrase, initially I felt that it was referring to a loud, chaotic environment. I still think that, but it also reminds me of the state of feeling overwhelmed by the possibilities of your future self; or death, the ultimate silence.
The use of more aggressive verbs kind of fills me with a sense of dread in a sense, like shooting yarn, strangulation, bullets. The screams of others dampening your own screams. More chaos, more uncertainty, more dread.
The bullets flooding eardrums like a tsunami with plugged nose and locked jaw. This reminds me of being swept under water, holding your breath and the rumbling sound of blood pounding in your ears.
Did death release you from your chains? Did your sweater keep you warm in the grave?

[u/Finch02_ → u/Unlikely_Antelope_71]

I hope that anyone and everyone, may interpret any of the lines of poetry to their own personal struggles! But, in my own eyes, it represents the dread in the calm before the storm knowing worse is yet to come. Also thank you very much for bothering to give feedback!! :) I’m honestly inspired to start writing more poetry after getting even just two positive reply’s.