David Wakeham (dwtutoring)"wr / eck?"
When language breaks down at the edge of consciousness, what emerges? Three experimental poems where typography becomes meaning and silence speaks louder than words.
What a critique ❤️
"Your words carry the weight of a soul on the edge, and I felt every fracture, every frozen breath. The imagery—so chilling, yet intimate—paints the pain of someone trying to leave love behind like footprints in the snow, knowing they’ll vanish. There’s an ache in every pause, every ellipsis, like the speaker is fading before they can finish the thought. The line "My love will be... a shield... your saving grace" broke me—it’s the kind of love that persists even in surrender"