It took you a lot of courage to write about your experience.

However, even in sharing this there is still the overwhelming sense that the narrator is closing out the world, not inviting it in. When your narrator says “You’ll never understand anything/About my misery, my life” he/she is telling the reader not to interfere with such self-loathing, because to this pain-muddled perception that reader has nothing to offer that will be accepted.

No offense, but the idea that no one understands, that is a myth, as well as the idea that pain erases pain. Humans are meant to be social creatures. Everyone knows what pain and suffering is, even if some pains to others are minor. And, being distracted from inner pain by causing outer pain is more cyclic than some realize.

There is a phrase in this piece that doesn’t really fit. That phrase is “this heart made of stone”. Hearts that are made of stone are hearts that are incapable of feeling anything. Surely, the narrator, who is bent on suffering in solitude, is feeling something. In fact, I would suggest that this heart is made more of flesh than most. Do you mean something else by this phrase? Do you mean Will made of stone? Do you mean mind made of stone? Do you mean desire, or destiny made of stone? Anyway,… you’ll figure it out.

In spite of the way it looks, I did enjoy this free form, for what it’s worth. Thanks for sharing and take care.

Christine