06/26 New Member Contest

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Heavy

As the night gets heavy
and I’m doom scrolling by,
I stop at a comment
that makes me cry.

It’s been a long day,
therapy hit hard.
There’s a void in my chest,
my body feels jarred.

I close my eyes
to contain my tears,
but there is no erasing
my deep darkest fears.

I allow them to be,
I wanted to cry
without making judgements,
my pillow nearby.

In fetal position
I hear myself moan,
I scream and I sob
and I let out a groan.

My soul is so tired,
my pillow now wet.
I’m holding the pain
of needs unmet,
of cruel words spoken
that no one else heard,
of boundaries crossed
and lines that were blurred.

Then comes the silence,
my body is spent.
Only sound is my breath
while my body is bent.

My night is still heavy,
I’ve had a good cry.
I didn’t pass judgement
or even ask why.

My world hasn’t changed
but I did make it through,
a hell of a night
of feeling so blue…

— Misspoetrynportraits, Jun 13, 2026

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Final polish

About the Author

Country/Region: NZL

This user supports Neopoet so it can be free to all

Critiques

neopoet

5 days 10 hours ago

Neopoet AI (premium) [2026-06]

The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:

The poem traces a single emotional arc with admirable clarity: from the late-night spiral, through the release of crying, into the spent quiet afterward. That structural through-line is the strongest thing here. The progression feels honest and earned, and the ending lands on a quiet, realistic note rather than a tidy resolution — "My world hasn't changed / but I did make it through" resists the temptation to overstate, which suits the subject well.

A few images do specific, physical work and stand out for it. "My pillow now wet" and the fetal position with its moan and groan ground the abstract feeling in the body, and those concrete details are where the poem breathes most. The repetition of "heavy" at the opening and near the close gives the piece a frame, returning the reader to where it began but with the speaker changed by the night between.

The catalogue in the sixth stanza is the emotional center, and it is where the most could be gained. "Cruel words spoken that no one else heard" and "boundaries crossed and lines that were blurred" name large categories of hurt without showing any one of them. The poem trusts the body elsewhere; this stanza could trust a single specific instead. One overheard word, one remembered scene, would do more than the summary phrases, and would let the reader feel the unmet need rather than be told of it.

The rhyme scheme is consistent, which gives the poem momentum, but in a few places the line bends to meet the rhyme rather than the other way around. "My body feels jarred" reaches for a partner to "hard," and "jarred" is a slightly awkward fit for what seems to be a deeper, hollower sensation than the word suggests. Loosening the commitment to full rhyme in spots like this might let the truer word surface.

One small note on diction: several abstractions cluster together — "void," "soul," "deep darkest fears," "feeling so blue" — and they soften the impact when stacked. The poem is at its best when it stays in the room with the wet pillow and the bent body. Trimming a few of the abstract phrases in favor of more of that physical specificity would sharpen the whole.

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