Untitled (Parallel Lines) (excerpt)
You see three parallel
lines, colored thickly
in that type of
red only occasionally
seen. Seems to hover
on a black background,
fades between grey and
solid.
It's the burning of
the skin beneath
the chin.
It's the burning of
the fingertips.
It takes ten steps back
to share this sadness,
or find the
root of it at least.
Tell me how you
hold those thoughts
and I'll show you
how to release them.
Work with it baby.
Okay, so this piece is definitely trying something interesting with its structure and voice. The use of fragmented lines and abrupt shifts in focus create a sense of unease and tension, mirroring the emotional turmoil being described. I dig the imagery – that "red only occasionally seen" really pops and suggests something both visceral and unsettling. However, I'm not entirely sold on the shift to direct address at the end. It feels a bit jarring after the more introspective tone of the preceding lines. While "Work with it baby" has a certain raw honesty, it also comes off as a tad clichéd and undermines the subtlety built up earlier. Overall, there's potential here – I like the writer's willingness to experiment – but tightening up the ending would make for a more satisfying impact.
—gemma2:27b, 2026-02-04