#1
So, this one is pretty bad too, but it's the first finished piece I've written down in over a year pretty much, so tear it apart and leave links.

"a piece"

orchestrated flickering of fireflies in jars lets us understand just how small we are. our deep thoughts, our complex minds, our addictions, our lies; the actions we take to determine the glory or consequence we'll face in the afterlife; we'll face everything by ourselves. our heads toward the stars, our feet attached to the ground; we'll tear apart in hopes of understanding the significance in every sound: her laughter, his sighs; the muffled passing of a car deviating from a drive. you'll always be blind no matter how you view a life; a statistic or a tragedy, a love or a loss: a hope. a miracle. we'll plea with these no-name, no-faced forms of friends and lovers; voices and numbers, and hold on to every memory conceived; 'don't leave me.' i am somebody. i haven't a name or a face, but i am some body. i will bury this place somewhere within my mind, and hide my thoughts 'neath a trembling lie. 'i'm fine, i'm just passing some time.'
#2
"a piece"

orchestrated flickering of fireflies in jars lets us understand just how small we are. the first word here impedes the flow. it's perfect in the logical chain of thought, but the look/sound of it couldn't come at a worse time. see if there is a way to make this happen after the flickering of fireflies. or perhaps a softer replacement that will ease into the flickering. our deep thoughts, our complex minds, our addictions, our lies; the actions we take to determine the glory or consequence we'll face in the afterlife; we'll face everything by ourselves. our heads toward the stars, our feet attached to the ground; we'll tear is ourselves implied here? usually i prefer implication. but here, i might suggest stating it outright. apart in hopes of understanding the significance in every sound: her laughter, his sighs; the muffled passing of a car deviating from a drive. the last four words of this sound foreign to me. you'll always be blind no matter how you view a life; view life would read more crisply than with a included. a statistic or a tragedy, a love or a loss: a hope. a miracle. we'll plea *plead? with these no-name, no-faced forms of friends and lovers; voices and numbers, and hold on to every memory conceived; i dislike the use of conceived here. in my mind conception is birth/creation. this goes well with thoughts and ideas, but memories are more like records or recollections. 'don't leave me.' i am somebody. i haven't a name or a face, but i am some body. i will bury this place somewhere within my mind, and hide my thoughts 'neath a trembling lie. 'i'm fine, i'm just passing some time.'


the "we" used throughout made this a sort of "group introspective". like a commencement speech or something. i rarely stay interested, so take anything said here with a grain of salt.

even with the start as it is, i retained the firefly image for a good while during the read. for me, that was the most exceptional part of the piece.
Meadows
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