Small little pieces.

[Annoyance]

So I kind of wrote some poetry that I'm not actually ashamed of. Originally I wanted to turn this into a nonfiction but my thoughts on the matter and this particular ghost of mine keeps recurring in my dreams and in one instance, woke me up in a dream [waking dreams are spooky] and i had to write about the feelings somehow.

opinions are of course welcome because this is still a wip

Red strings binding tighter
shackled by this thread cutting into my skin
connecting us by this sick notion
that i thought i would marry you
the way you looked at me
gave the idea that you were just down the aisle

i tied this thin string around us instead
and we walked in separate directions.
i began to run not realizing-
it was in a slip knot.

my blood begins to spill from my neck
my skin breaks and cracks under the pressure
my hands bound behind
do i come or do i walk
tell me now so i can rest
release your hands from my throat
bite your tongue instead of my thigh

the string is pulled so tightly now
neither blades nor our teeth can rip the threads
they are bound together
in a single,
never-ending
rope.

The waking dream was that he shoved me awake so I could witness him choking me before I woke up again sweating.

 

[KingdomKey]

I find this dream somewhat scary because, that's one helluva dream for starters. Whereas the poem itself is quite outstanding and beautiful in its violent nature. Like, this is an extremely powerful picture its painting. And the red string is quite symbolic because, there is such a thing as being tied to somebody through a string/thread. Like the threads of fate. Furthermore, this could be relatable in its own way. Not everyone has a happy marriage or relationship. Sometimes you want to run from the person you're bound to for freedom. Seriously, this is... there's no words that could give it the justice it truly deserves. I love this poem a whole lot, cause it's amazing. And you should feel proud of it!

Although, I'm terribly sorry you had a scary waking dream. o.o

 

[Annoyance]

I find this dream somewhat scary because, that's one helluva dream for starters. Whereas the poem itself is quite outstanding and beautiful in its violent nature. Like, this is an extremely powerful picture its painting. And the red string is quite symbolic because, there is such a thing as being tied to somebody through a string/thread. Like the threads of fate. Furthermore, this could be relatable in its own way. Not everyone has a happy marriage or relationship. Sometimes you want to run from the person you're bound to for freedom. Seriously, this is... there's no words that could give it the justice it truly deserves. I love this poem a whole lot, cause it's amazing. And you should feel proud of it!

Although, I'm terribly sorry you had a scary waking dream. o.o

Oh my gosh Cinder thank you so much. I'm glad you understood the red string of fate reference. I decided to not read it at my open mic as it is right now [among many other reasons] because of the imagery of the red string and not to mention my mentions of kinks [like shibari] [nobody knows what shibari is unless you really really know] and I didn't wanna freak out my writing professor/faculty advisor. I feel like I need to add more to imply the broken heart and why I ran but... yeah.

 

[Annoyance]

This piece isn't done but I figured I'd post what I have for the Summer Contest. At this point it qualifies as flash fiction. I don't know what to add or how to execute more... I'll figure it out because I see potential in this and the themes created.

Right now the title is "The Lights in the Jar"

The mason jar’s lid scratched my fingers as I held it shut. Tiny holes in the top to let them breathe, poked from the bottom of the lid, with sharp pieces of metal jutted upwards and sliding against my skin. Their light glowed onto my hand in a soothing green show of nature. Erika continued on chasing, cupping her hands together, peaking to check for triumph and hurried over to me to add another friend in the jar. The sun had set just ten minutes before and we continued along the backyard, catching any illuminating friend Erika could trap into her hands.

Suddenly, she stopped.

“What do they eat, mom?”

I wasn’t sure. Other bugs? Leaves?

“Won’t they die if we don’t feed them?” she asked.

Admittedly the sound of the word “die” coming from the mouth of my six year old shocked me. Did she truly understand what “to die” meant? Does she fear it like I do?

We continued on adding friends to the jar. Some of the friends in the jar began to glow slower, dimmer, and held to the walls of the jar without movement. I worried Erika would notice.

“Erika,” I called to her. “Erika, we should go inside.”

She ran to me smiling, her hair bouncing. “Can I keep them on my dresser tonight?”

I knew she feared the dark. I could only react at first by pulling my lips inward and biting the bottom one slightly.

“No, honey,” I finally responded. I could see her expression drop, despite it getting darker by the minute.

She began to object, “But Mom…”

“Won’t they die?” I could only ask.

Erika responded in imitation to my own reaction. I noticed two friends glow as they escaped her small hands. “I don’t wanna sleep in the dark,” she finally slipped out.

“I know, honey. I know you don’t, but it isn’t right to use them like that. Do you love them?”

“Yes!” she immediately reacted with eyes wide with conviction.

“Sometimes… it’s better to let them go. You had fun playing with them, and look how many friends you made!”

“But why can’t we be forever?”

“Forever is a long time, but even longer to them, I think.”

“How long do they live?”

“I’m not sure… I’m thinking much less time than us, though. They need to be free, and we need to sleep, Erika. It’s late. Would you like to open the jar? We’ll watch them off.”

 

[KingdomKey]

This felt bittersweet to me. Which is outstanding because, I wasn't expecting Erika and her mother to ask the hard questions. Or the reality of what happens to fireflies in general. I also happen to like fireflies and see them a lot every night where I live. And this reminds me a time, I used to collect them in a jar as a kid. I can't remember if I let them go or not. So this speaks to me a lot as well because, I was probably a bit more innocent and never knew what death was until I was ten. Anyways, I like how her mother speaks honestly to Erika. Or that she does it in a way that isn't so harsh and traumatic. But it's also sweet that she's trying to protect her daughter from hurting the fireflies by letting them go instead of keeping them in a jar overnight and seeing them die by morning. It's like there's reality mixed in with pure innocence in this that makes me love this piece so much. <3 Well done, Annoyance. Well done.

 

[Annoyance]

This felt bittersweet to me. Which is outstanding because, I wasn't expecting Erika and her mother to ask the hard questions. Or the reality of what happens to fireflies in general. I also happen to like fireflies and see them a lot every night where I live. And this reminds me a time, I used to collect them in a jar as a kid. I can't remember if I let them go or not. So this speaks to me a lot as well because, I was probably a bit more innocent and never knew what death was until I was ten. Anyways, I like how her mother speaks honestly to Erika. Or that she does it in a way that isn't so harsh and traumatic. But it's also sweet that she's trying to protect her daughter from hurting the fireflies by letting them go instead of keeping them in a jar overnight and seeing them die by morning. It's like there's reality mixed in with pure innocence in this that makes me love this piece so much. <3 Well done, Annoyance. Well done.

Thank you so much! ;A;
I wanna finish this hopefully before next spring so I can try to get it published. It still needs a lot of work.