literature

Honey

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BaNaNa-BaSh's avatar
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Literature Text

Jim, do you know what you drink? Do you know those black and blue poisons you sip like wild honey that in truth, eat at you like shovels? As the lines on your face harden and you gulp that poison down, do you understand that you will lose your sanity? I've seen men lose themselves with that honey, but not like you Jim. No, when you make your head happy, your heart dies a thousand times over. The other men come back for more poison because they know they don't have another choice. You do, though, Jim.

When you walk home, I see the sway in your walk and the murder in your eyes. And you do worse than murder, Jim. Don't you see the love Momma has for you when she stands there in the cold door frame and smuggles you in? You have a chance for love, but you don't have the time. No, even the loneliest bachelor or the most heartbroken widow would long for that sweet warmth that a lover gives a lover in their time of need. But not you. No, not you.

And when Momma holds me and tells me you'll get better, I believe her. I believe her, even when she herself doesn't believe. Even when you throw those dishes across the room, when I feel your sticky odorous breath on my head that makes my spine prickle, when you laugh like the dark guys in movies and grab for John as he runs to me and Momma. I believe her even then.

Did you know John has straight A's? His favorite color is lemon yellow and his last pet frog was named Jim. After you. He says it to me as I rock him to sleep. After you, after Daddy. He tells me he wants to be a vet when he grows up. Jim, did you know that? The way his face scrunches up every time I tell him a story. The way he giggles. The way he smiles. He loves you, Jim. There's a chance to claim it, but you don't.

Jim, I remember your face, back when you used to smile. There were no pencil marks on your forehead, no dip in your smile. You used to throw me high in the air and catch me, giggling. You told me I was a bird. And I believed you. I remember running to you and clinging to your leg as you walked around. It was better than any rollercoaster ever invented. Until you built your own. Until that day Momma found those shards in the trash. Which I pieced together on the sidewalk and named Jim. The shards I rolled over with my bike over and over again till my tires were shredded and even then I didn't stop. Only when Momma came out of the house crying, wrapped me in her arms and rocked me back and forth. Only then.

And you will always be Jim to me. I gave you my chance to love, and you threw it away.
Written for my English class as a short story apostrophe.

Enjoy. (:


Feedback request for #theWrittenRevolution

For the most part, I am proud of this piece. However, I wonder about the transition between some of the paragraphs. Am I rushing it a little? Also, I use a LOT of short sentences to punctuate and reestablish things, but am I overdoing it? In other words, do i overuse those short, punctuating sentences to the point where they don't punctuate ideas anymore?


EDIT

For anyone who's curious, an apostrophe is something written as if the narrator were writing a letter or speaking directly to someone else. In this case, our narrator is speaking to their father, Jim.


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Written by: :iconbanana-bash:

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© 2010 - 2024 BaNaNa-BaSh
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AlecWolfe's avatar
hmmm tis almost second person...but not quite. it's like how my second person keeps turning out lol...but i know tisnt meant to be in second preson - i read the comments lol. It's very good, nicely emotive.

and to get more pll to read it, put into groups - i'm part of a few good groups, so if ur interested they're listed on my page.