“Mommie Dearest”

I don’t what I did to deserve you in my life
Crying, laughter, anger
Every step of the way, you were there
To light my way into the shadowy future
Like the beacon of your lighthouse
Guiding my boats safely into harbor
I don’t know how you are the sturdy wooden stilts
Keeping my house above water after the hopeless hurricane
Even though it means getting your feet wet
I don’t know how you are the strong storm cellar
Shielding me from the shrapnel and wreckage the tornado brings
Bringing me into your shelter, your comforting safety
I don’t know how you encompass me like the sun
Surrounding me by your warmth, which radiates from your heart
Greeting me every morning with a bright smile
Wishing me rest, leaving me with an array of beautiful dreams
I don’t know what I would do without you
And I hope to never find out

Flash Fiction

In the flash fiction story “Gasping in the Wind”, I was left with the last night digging itself into my brain. The story was understandable; a girl was out late, lost track of time, and was summoned by her angry mother. It seems so incredibly normal, nothing really special to the story. But then, the last line came and punched me in the stomach. That is good writing, because now there is another meaning to the girls pain.

“Acceptable Condition” was a big unclear and left to interpretation. I was not sure which way the author meant for the last sentence to go. At first I thought it was put there to show how ungrateful people can be, because at least he could read when there are hundreds of children in the world who can’t. But then, after a bit more pondering, my final take on it was that it was the librarian who could not read. He desperately wants to, but he doesn’t know how; like a prisoner trapped to the library. Although there are a few flaws to this theory, it is the best I could think of. I love that the ending was broad though, because then the reader can determine what the story means to them.

“Before the Locksmith” was creative because the author was able to describe an incident without coming out and saying it. This is where there is a slight form of poetry that emerges. The description the author uses clearly indicates the woman was upset at her husband because of something he did wrong, an affair I presume. The only part that left me hanging was the flowers in the last paragraph.

The flash fiction stories are a lot shorter than I expected them to be. It is a lot easier for me to understand because most of the writing is straightforward. I like flash fiction because, not only is it short, but also because it combines short stories and poetry into one. It’s like reading a short story, but there are also twisted elements and symbols that give it a hidden meaning. Of course, that’s not always the case but at least flash fiction gives the writer that freedom.

I can already tell I will not be adapt to writing good flash fiction because I have a horrible disadvantage of over-explaining details. It is impossible for me to be short and concise with my descriptions, which will be a weakness that I must overcome. Also, many of the flash fiction is very symbolic and twisted, which is why I believe I will not be successful at writing such literature. I like how short it is, though, because it gets to the point without dragging the content continuously.

“Beautifully Bias”

As I sit down making myself comfy
I prepare for my daily chat with my therapist
For without his guidance, I would diminish
You’d need a microscope to see
How truly broken I am
But luckily, I have him

I’m not good with touching moments
I don’t like emotions
But with him I am vulnerable
A state I avoid at all costs
With him, I am strong, caring, beautiful
He’s just bias

Around him, all my fears are vanquished
All my foes defeated, and I remain the victor
He says I can be anything, cause I am everything
“You have to say that” I point out
“Just because I am your father, doesn’t make it any less true”
And I smile,
Replying with an awkward “whatever”
Retreating back into my shell of invulnerability

 

“All In Time”

It all starts from the bottom
And slowly grows
Higher and higher
In dirt we start
As a sprout
We were easily pushed
Over by the wind
And it was hard
For us to stay strong
But time passed
And we grew
Developing a base
So we can’t be knocked down
Our skin grew thick
Not easily harmed
And wrong limbs
Misguided when grown
Are cut down
Leaves flourished
Now in our prosperous days
A strong backbone
To keep us standing
But time continues to pass
And we no longer grow
Rather diminish
As our leaves are limited
And our base is weak
We eventually fall
No matter how hard we may try
There is no cure for time