(tmb: the meaning behind)

*please note that only some of my poems are so cryptic that they may require explanation, so not all of my poems will have a chapter explaining the imagery and symbolism I used to write them.)

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The stained ribcage is my ribcage and the two speakers of this poem are the two voices within me that make up me.

One is the suppressed side of me trapped in a glass box, which is why I often come across as shy or reserved in social situations. The other speaker is the part of me who acts, and is not suppressed. The part of me that is left, that isn't dying. It storms in furiously and shatters the glass of the other part of me, and scolds it for being blind, making me blind.

I am referred to as 'it' in this poem, as they both make up me.

They both see me as a mere vessel, or body, so they use the dehumanising pronoun 'it' when referring to me.

This poem is told from the perspective of my first voice who is suppressed and in the glass box, and centres around my fur at and second voice and ends with me (my body) and where it is in the end.

Both voices argue about being aware enough (of life) as the second voice accuses the first voice of being blind, and of my vision being blurry still (not being able to see life for what it is, and not being aware enough of what is necessary, or what needs to be done in order to live a decent, socially acceptable life competently).

The second voice then cries sweet honey, and begs the other voice to have faith in the future, despite them (or me) not being perfectly aware of how to live life more-than-completely. We're all just winging it, but if your a lonesome first child then maybe the feeling of not knowing where you're headed next hits your harder than it does others.

Then, I slip, and hit the ground 'like a misplaced coin' at the bottom of a well. I used this metaphor because it reminds me of wishes and how, some of us pray and wish for things to happen to us, or for aspects of our lives to get better, or for our wishes to come true. And this metaphor reminded me of people throwing coins into wells to make a wish all those years ago, in times that were more archaic than ours. I used the word 'misplaced' here to convey how I think that if my future does not work out then maybe my 'wishes' (or my choice to pursue a career in the field of English) was misplaced - but it was a coin that I threw into the well, and that's the important part. And at least I didn't let my parents dictate my life choices.

(It doesn't even matter anymore, because I did really well and managed to get into the university I wanted to get in to, so it all worked out in the end - and I know what my next steps are from here and what career(s) I intend to pursue.) - I suppose I wrote this poem back when I thought I'd done terribly in my exams (but I hadn't). Sometimes you really are your own worst critic.

This terrifies the insecure, and already scared (but their masking their fear with anger) second speaker, as they cut the first speaker off with 'Fool!' - an insult, as they think that they're (or I'm since they make up me) a fool.

The first speaker (who narrates this poem) says 'you're just as weak as I' referring to how both of the voices or speakers are actually two real voices in a real person and that real person is in fact me, so this entire poem is basically inner-conflict, or beating yourself up about your life choices and maybe regretting them while another part of you tells yourself that it's okay, and to have faith in the future and trust in the process and in God.

The poem ends with 'now its (my) body is 'merely' (the adjective merely reduces my self-worth or my future state as this describes me after a level results day, after my academic fate has been sealed) sitting on a chair, as one does on their birthday maybe, facing what's supposed to be a cake.

But it's not a cake, it's a block of jelly.

I chose jelly because its partially translucent/ transparent, and so you can see all of its flaws in a way, and how it wobbles with uncertainty whenever you move it around on a plate. Cake is more stable and is an emblem of jubilations and celebrations.

This poem is me being pessimistic and imagining a future in which my dreams are crushed, hence the two parts of me arguing as one confronts the other, and the unstable block of jelly that's just as unsure of the future as I am. In it, are 'glossy' candles. I made these candles 'glossy' because they're wet with tears. Which is incredibly strange. How would one manage to smear their tears over the waxy body of a candle that is meant to sit atop a birthday cake?

This happens at night 'under the light of the moon', heightening that feeling of 'it's too late' in terms of my future, as it creates a strange, eerie sense of hopelessness.

Then, to slap my readers in the face with another punch of hopelessness, my poem ends on a shooting star that I have missed, representing a missed opportunity, or a wish that could have been made - one that could have later come true.

To make this part of the poem even more frustrating or soul-crushing I end by saying that my eyes were 'meant to see it' playing with the idea of destiny and ending on a depressing, melancholy note.

30th July 2022