Glass Lungs
They had strong hands when throwing stones.
With glass lungs, she learned to breathe on her own,
writing about strangers
with their pale milk complexions
and their eyes like darting silver fish.
They were not intricate.
They were not elegant.
But they had strong hands when throwing stones.
The ragged curses from their steel lungs dashed her against the rocks.
About the Creator
Carly Bush
I'm a writer with a passion for highly visual and quietly subversive literature. I contribute to Collective World and you can find my short stories and poetry here.
Connect with me on Instagram and TikTok: @carlyaugustabush
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Vale Perficientur
"My tears need a minute to find the edges of my face. If you'll please excuse me." The sarcasm stabbed into Juliana’s heart. Antonia glared at her from the pit of the Lyceum as her student fought to hold back tears that had nothing to do with the pain in her fingers. “You’re better than this, again.”
By Matthew Fromm4 days ago in Fiction
Comments (4)
Incredible depiction of such a sad reality. Love your use of “glass lungs” especially with the follow up of “they had strong hands when throwing stones” This gave me such a *feeling* of vulnerability.
This reminded me of my childhood, fantasizing and storytelling when peers in my reality were cruel. Also reminded me of Sara Crewe, a favorite fictional character from my youth. 🤍
Breath as writing...I see this metaphor as being applicable to writing here, on Vocal. Glass lungs = baring one's soul through words. Breath as literal = holding one's breath as the harsh reviews come. The featured image (did you take that pic? I love it) seems to indicate childhood strife, perhaps bullies. Glass lungs versus steel lungs, fragile introspective child versus simple, brutish bullies. Throwing stones = self-righteous judgement. Stones into rocks seems to indicate an entire environment that is harsh and antagonistic. I can't settle on the heart of this one, but I kind of like that uncertainty; opens it up to the reader to meet it with their own interpretation. Certainly, there are bullies on Vocal too (or there have been, and there's always the potential for more). Perhaps this poem is layered with two metaphors, abstracted enough away from the heart to make it a genuinely artistic piece, and not just a simple confession. I love it, whatever you intended. 💜
Loved your story..