Cartographers

[Animalhill]

I drew a line from hers to mine and mapped the distance in between- and all the
tiny little hills that kept us separate and still have grown into a mountain range.
And all the boarders that we named just ate up our arms and our legs
And left us in an ice age.

We were Cartographers that couldn’t even make it up the stairs.

Now I’ve got pockets full of ladybugs
Waiting to bloom on my lap, but they just
Fold and hide out. They just died and dried up.

Then that gust in her chest finds me and makes a mess
In the center of my head (it’s a growing little garden of
Fever and dread), but at least she breathes in my dreams.
At least there she’s content being lost in my sheets.


We are Cartographers that will never make it up the stairs.

We will roll about the world, absurd and alone-
Fleeing suitors and whores and the dust of our homes.
We will paint our names onto the walls of cities
And never know their face.

[The Personist]

I drew a line from hers to mine and mapped the distance in between- and all the
tiny little hills that kept us separate and still have grown into a mountain range.
And all the boarders that we named just ate up our arms and our legs
And left us in an ice age.

I'm not a huge fan of this stanza. It feels like you're trying to make something poetic and deep, but it really is nothing more than simple wordplay. Behind those words, there isn't much that you're saying. I think you should figure out what you want to say (in a sentence or two) and then go for it. This was a lot of words with very little behind them.

We were Cartographers that couldn’t even make it up the stairs.
Now, at the same time as I don't like the first stanza, I like this idea.

Now I’ve got pockets full of ladybugs
Waiting to bloom on my lap, but they just
Fold and hide out. They just died and dried up.
I like the ladybug idea, but I think you could do more with it. also, I think you're presenting ideas--"fold and hide out," "died and dried up"--without following them through to any satisfying conclusion.

Then that gust in her chest finds me and makes a mess
In the center of my head (it’s a growing little garden of
Fever and dread), but at least she breathes in my dreams.
At least there she’s content being lost in my sheets.


We are Cartographers that will never make it up the stairs.

again, i like this cartographer thing.

We will roll about the world, absurd and alone- best line in the whole piece. I love it. I absolutely love it.
Fleeing suitors and whores and the dust of our homes.
We will paint our names onto the walls of cities
And never know their face.
i don't feel like this has to do with the map-making stuff from before.

In general, you tend to present ideas and not follow them logically to a conclusion, which can be frustrating, especially in this sort of style (it's not overtly surreal or abstract or expressionist), so i would suggest seeking out a few metaphors you love and carrying them through to the end.

[Animalhill]

mad good criticism man- I really appreciate it. I'm going to revise and re-post