The following was written for this weeks W3 linked here
All sundayfied in funeral raiment
each like wilting angels trumpets
noses down in pursuit of frolic and folly
vicissitudes of restlessness
poke from beneath the skin
startled by the suns dim-witted banality
into frenzied parodies of butterfly wings
skirting and fluttering to dashing urgencies
yet never quite with the tenacity to breach fully, the surface
and in solemenity to our trivilialities
we cut ourselves to the quick

From the first line to the last, this poem brims with potent imagery. Desperation and despondency leak out of every line, Matt. Wonderful writing.
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Thanks. Good to know the desperate feeling comes through to readers.
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Wonderful imagery Matt, I really love ‘frenzied parodies of butterfly wings’ đź’žSuzanne
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Thanks!
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Great Matt – capturing the tension between vulnerability and self-preservation 🙌
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Thanks! The story of life in society lol
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đź©·
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wonderfully captured. Easily your best work. Thanks for letting me read it.
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Thanks. Glad it stands out to you as my best.
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Matt, your ending, “we cut ourselves to the quick,” lands hard for me and makes the whole poem feel more honest.
~David
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Thanks. I think its a brutal truth, we hurt ourselves (or people like me do, I’m generalising) while bubbling over with desperation that makes us seek things in life, usually material goods, or maybe gossip to fill in for the hurt but the whole time we’re just hurting ourselves or prolonging the hurt.
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đź’”
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