Comments 37

The Part Of Me I Didn’t Like

I wasn’t who you made me,

I turned myself into that girl

who threaded her fingers

into the gaps between yours.


Lingered longer than should have

outside of cafes, and pocket shops,

between cobbles and walkways

where we strolled away afternoons

until the bus table declared enough

was enough.


She who returned whenever she could

because you made her feel wanted,

told her she could be

and would be if you weren’t

already taken.


Like I said,

she wasn’t her because of you.

I managed to make her all by myself.

Unmaking her was the part

I’m still learning how to do.


This is a poem I’ve written out a few times in various forms and never been quite happy with but tonight’s poetics prompt seemed like the perfect time to have another go at it. Still not sure I’ve got it right but I can always try again another day. Feedback as always is greatly appreciated if you have the time to spare.

This entry was posted in: Poetry


Carol J Forrester is a writer and a history geek. Her debut collection 'It's All In The Blood' came out November 2019. She has a 2:1 BA degree in history from Bath Spa University, enjoys judo at least twice a week, and tries to attend poetry events around the Midlands when she can. Her flash fiction story ‘Glorious Silence’ was named as River Ram Press’ short story of the month for August 2014 and her short story ‘A Visit From The Fortune Teller’ has been showcased on the literary site Ink Pantry. Her poems ‘Sunsets’ and ‘Clear Out‘ were featured on Eyes Plus Words, and two of her poems were included in the DVerse Poets Pub Publication ‘Chiaroscuro’ which is available for purchase on amazon.Her poem ‘Until The Light Gets In‘ was accepted and published at The Drabble and her poem ‘Newborn’ was published by Ink Sweat & Tears. She has been lucky enough to write guest posts for sites such as Inky Tavern and Song of The Forlorn and has hosted a number of guest bloggers on her site Writing and Works.


  1. I especially like the last stanza, the lesson learned, and the struggle remaining… sometimes I feel that falling in love is a lot like building a prison for yourself.

  2. A true confession! This is a poem I can identify with, Carol. I’ve done it more than once, and wondered why I kept on doing it. I still don’t understand. I think I’ve learnt to love myself and won’t be doing it again. I think the lines that very effectively describe the way we change to suit the ones we want to be with are:
    ‘I turned myself into that girl
    who threaded her fingers
    into the gaps between yours’
    ‘she wasn’t her because of you.
    I managed to make her all by myself.
    Unmaking her was the part
    I’m still learning how to do’.

    • Thank you Kim. Yes, someone else has picked out those two part as well. They seem to have hit home to most for people. It still worries me how easily I used to loose myself chasing after fantasies as a teenager.

  3. I like that. The taking of responsibility. The opposite to a lot of confessional poetry where the poet has no control over the ‘dark destiny’. This is understated and quietly sad, but strong too.

    • Thank you Jane. I tend to be of the mindset that if you screw up you need to own it. I’ve known too many people who blame everyone else for the messes they make and it’s infuriating.

      • It seems to be general—the blame culture— an awful lot of people who look for someone to blame when they fall off the pavement or get on the wrong bus, get too fat to fit into aircraft seats etc etc As for taking responsibility for their love lives!

  4. I think the first and last stanzas are the strongest. I recognise that girl (of course) – not sure you’ll ever get rid of her! – I think it’s a good piece, over all.

  5. Glenn Buttkus says

    This describes my first two marriages. I woman I courted disappeared after the nuptials; kind of a 20th century construct taught to young girls by their misguided mothers and society.

    • Your friend sounds very wise. I don’t think you could even call this a relationship, more a lovesick girl who wasn’t really sure what she wanted.

  6. Very much connected with your poem. You made her with blood, sweat, and tears, for love with her/him. You will unmake her for love for yourself. It’s important to know what materials were used in construction.

    • Thank you violet. This year and last year have very much been about writing more truthful poems for me so I’m glad it comes through.

  7. Beautiful descriptions of your personality… I find the end sad in that you are changing from that carefree person into something someone wants you to be!??

    • Opposite way around sort of. I was turning into someone I didn’t want to be the more time I spent with this guy. It was a few years ago now and I’m still unpicking the pieces that in the end, weren’t me and weren’t the sort of person I was happy being.

  8. “Unmaking her is the part I’m still learning how to do”. Sometimes we end up spending a lot of time undoing the habits/actions/thoughts that we have created about ourselves. There’s also a certain power that comes with admitting “I managed to make her all by myself.” Well worded, Carol.

  9. Ah, this is such a good confessional verse — it reminds me of the Kamala Das poem I shared for the prompt.
    It can be liberating to acknowledge all that we make of ourselves for others. It’s the “unmaking” which takes time. I found this bit very effective:
    “into that girl/who threaded her fingers/into the gaps between yours.”

    • Thank you. I’ll admit I was a bit spooked by the prompt. I’d spent the previous evening trying to write this out and not hitting the notes I wanted to so it was very odd to then be given the challenge of writing confessional poetry, It was a fantastic prompt however.

  10. Nora says

    There’s a sense of shrinking yourself down and abdicating your power here, to fit into someone else’s requirements. Perhaps you are not unmaking, but re-building.

    ‘who threaded her fingers
    into the gaps between yours’
    is a powerful image of the contortions we may do in search of the would be’s.

    • Perhaps so. In one of the earlier versions I had a stanza about hiding pieces of ‘her’ away, stuffing them to the back of the wardrobe, behind the drawers.

  11. Hi there, Carol, you mention you have tried this poem a few times and would welcome feed back. I think the first two stanzas and the last are strong, you might try leaving out the third stanza and see how the poem looks without it. Just my humble opinion, I have a lot of poems lying around that I just can’t get right!

  12. Being drawn to the forbidden fruit is certainly human! I really really liked the way you wrote this in the third person, as to be more objective in your telling, and in that, an honest level revealing. Very potent writing Carol!

    • Thank you Rob. I’d not thought about the perspective in the poem like that. Thanks for pointing it out, I’ll make sure to keep that in when I redraft.

  13. I like the last stanza especially. I have tried also to make myself to match someone’s expectations–not only doesn’t it work, but undoing it is so difficult. Hard to find the person underneath the disguise again. (K)

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