11-14-2025, 05:48 PM
(11-13-2025, 08:17 AM)Todd Wrote: Welcome to the site. I don't usually do line by line critiques in mild, but sometimes I do them to follow the logic of the poem. That's what I'm doing here.Thanks Todd. I really appreciate the time you took on this and deeply grateful for the feedback. Glad some things landed as I’d hoped and some elements still to work on. I find myself meandering into prose and abstract often in my writing, and find them hard to spot when I do (any tips?!)…
(11-11-2025, 04:31 PM)sun_sparks Wrote: So, here goes... my first post.I hope that wasn't too much for mild. I like what you did here. It's got strong bones. I'm interested to see where you go with this.
My Tongue is a Dam--wonderful title. The tongue which is meant to speak holds back words like a dam that holds back water. What's so good about that is Dam implies a few things. One a building up of pressure against a wall. Also, the subverting of the natural flow. That which is meant to speak restrains and holds the consequences of that restraint within the body. Nice work with the title.
It presses heavy from shoulder to shoulder,--This is where the exposition of the title helps you it adds context to the opening. It the desire to say what the speaker wants to say but for seem reason can't or won't say creates physical tension in the body.
pulling toward the floor.--This feels like an image of guilt or shame or regret this pulling to the floor, this weight.
My exhausted scapulae rise,
enveloping my neck in threatening embrace.--Nice visceral imagery
That unseen spot where breath meets nourishment
constricts,
pushing my words back
from parched tongue— --All these physical constraints building on one another.
clinging to the roof of my mouth,--while I like this more than simply naming the tongue parched. This phrasing is still slightly cliche and you can probably find a fresher alternative.
a dam against the flood of truth.--The flood gives a weight to how much is pressing to be said. Flood of truth is a bit abstract I realize the point is that the speaker can't say. This though would a good opportunity to anchor the abstraction with maybe half-formed fragments that can't be spoken fully, remain unspoken to the therapist but flit through the mind and give the reader hints or flashes without fully revealing anything (just a thought to consider).
She must have seen it. Heard --Again I think She must have seen it is a little too telling. Have her pick up an actual tell on the speaker's body or connect what you've already shown into an action (i.e., she's writing something again. What did she see, or hear from the silence) not trying to write it for you at all just given my train of thought.
the silence.
I pay her to listen.--Might want put some emotion into this line that you pay her to listen and are now bothered that she is.
Her notebook poised, black-rimmed glasses pulled into her disheveled hair,--I like the character work you did on the therapist. There's a contrast element professionalism mixed with disheveled hair. It in some ways makes her possibly untrustworthy. Though I'm reaching a bit because that is an interesting add and I'm trying to place it.
she watches me across our two water glasses
mine half-filled, hers always empty.--This feels like a subtle glass half full reference though completely subverting the cliche by making it literal. Also, since things can more than one thing. The half full glass also implies to me that there's a half of a conversation that the speaker is expected to carry and the other person gives nothing back (empty glass) as a therapist that's understandable but it still points to the nature of the relationship.
I know she’s seen it.--This is a strong line that pops. There's conflict packed in it.
Memory hunts for another truth—
too many truths— --These two lines feel a bit too abstract and lower the tension of the I know she's seen it. I'm not sure you need them.
I find one that loosens the tongue and lets breath escape.
That I can say aloud without inviting tears to fall.--I think you can let the speaker hinge a little bit more toward losing control tears to fall seems too easy.
My stomach churns at the choice,--Again feels too safe
releasing an acid tingle into my throat.
I swallow.
My shoulders sag but drag remains,
knotting truth into the tendons
that hold me upright.
Best,
Todd

