#1
The hesitant morning cast a gown of shadows on my doubts.
I felt nothing.
The air was putrid with dead expectations, and I filled my lungs.
I pushed hard, I tried to force her out.
It hung like a trophy around my neck.
Every new reason I invent gleams with hideous mirth,
My failure is mocking, it claims rebirth.
Doubts feed in happy content,
and they fight for every inch I yield.
Two weeks, two weeks after the lull of the defeat.
Her hands wrapped around me, and she concealed all hope
Again. The music held me fast and roped me to a tree.
They were slipping the hood over my head,
When the truth snuck in and it finally set me free.


crit for crit
There is no place else to go
The theater is closed
#2
It hung like a trophy around my neck.


I don't get that line?

Maybe a medal, but not a trophy.

And the last line should be separated from the piece in my opinion to show the meaning a little more. Like it's been set free.

If not, I'd shorten it and then rhyme it so it finishes neatly.

You sonofabitch
#3
Haha thanks Bilbo. It is rhymed btw, just rather sporiadically.

As to that line, the 'trophy' has personal meaning to me. Will work on the finish though.
There is no place else to go
The theater is closed