The Refrain (2022 NaPoWriMo #22)

With a little digging I found another series of poetry prompts being provided by NaPoWriMo – 30 Poems in 30 Days. I’m starting in the middle and I’ll see how it goes as to whether I work to catch-up with the prior prompts or just carry on forward.

Prompt 22

Write a poem that uses repetition.

NaPoWriMo.net

I use repetition fairly often in my work and I often find myself appreciating the poems from others that use this technique as well. But I’ve never set out to write something repetitious (unless part of a poetic form) as far as I can remember. I’m tempted to re-post (repeat?) one of my prior efforts here. That approach would address the prompt from multiple angles, which is always satisfying. But no, I’ll take up the challenge to write something original. Then repeat it.

Content Warning: This poem contains references to self-harm/suicide.

The Refrain

His voice high with anger, spit out ‘fuck-you’s’ and ‘I hate you’s’ before I heard the tone of a call terminated.

A text message pings “fuck-you”.

The next, pings “I hate you”.

Then one more ping slams into me “I’m going to kill myself”.

I’ve heard it all before, like a terrifying refrain.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

It scares me every time.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

I fear the day it stops being scary.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

But, I fear most the day it stops altogether.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

For with each ping, I know he’s still alive.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

Please God, please don’t let him stop.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

Thank you God.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

Please son, please don’t ever stop.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

Your alive. Thank you.

“Fuck-you. I hate you. I’m going to kill myself”

Oof. Life certainly has a way of creeping into our poetry doesn’t it? Of course it does, that’s why we write. Or at least, that is why I write. But, even knowing this, I sometimes get overwhelmed by what comes out.

Be well,

Monty

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