It was then that I knew that my world was ending. Jamie took my hand and squeezed it, her lips spilling words I didn't hear, her eyes releasing her surplus of emotion. And so came the end in the middle of the beginning, a breath taken in and released, and I knew my world was ending.
When the funeral procession dragged across my bleeding thoughts, I saw Jamie standing a little bit away, pouring forth a river from her never ending soul. Inside my heart a voice cried out to her, but she had long been blinded to my words and I had forgotten how to communicate.
My life had been a veil and I unwillingly hid behind disabilities and handicaps, two words that shaped my future like patronizing hands. If I could perhaps discover my tongue inside the folds and caves of tender silence, maybe I could show that titles are simply a name. But for now I only had eyes and a mind that could not be quieted, and I watched with a dead sort of eagerness.
I saw him with Jamie often enough, even after the grass was green over the disturbed soil and the stone worn of gloss. He showed a reckless, daring sort of love that Jamie countered with her gentle and tearful ways. In time he became part of her, part of the idea she held, part of the air she breathed. It was counterintuitive that she hold him to her body when all in all, he would one day rest under the same soil, with or without the beautiful girl that seemed to float on insecurities.
The tutors came and went, but each had a shortcoming that sent them down the path of the Condescenders. Therapist and counselors were discarded with old memories, and although I clung to the milestones, they left Jamie's mind like unimportant insects. She had a Laugh-Giver and a Love-Offering and the words associated with my face grew until they were all anyone could see anymore.
I fought to believe that I wasn't drowning and that there was still air at some indefinite height that I could reach if I swam long enough. The dreams I stored were like butterflies and I prayed that they wouldn't leave in my sleep.
When Jamie was in white and was beautiful, I sat on the steps and I watched her, invisible to the cultured and forgotten to the thoughtful. Like a day, my world had ended and with it left the prizes I had gained and the truth I had entrusted in a fallible mind. Now controlled the assumptions, the impressions, the judgements, and the nights were a startling release from the tongues that did not rest.
Before long, Jamie had disappeared and left me with an empty house full of haunting illusions. And yet I struggled and I breathed and I worked, and the untarnished pages refused to burn with my wishes.
My mind was still young and my thoughts were not dull, but my voice had been lost in the wind and with death, and before death, and before life, and it was predestined and it was how it should be.
Of the two expressions I had not lost, only one was screaming. The other was more subtly discovered, like a face never forgotten or a sound always remembered. In my youthful desperation, I had misplaced the power of no names and had started believing the lies that Jamie lived. But I was not dead and I was not dull and I will not be silenced.
And when the music played, my voice mingled with the notes and again I breathed.
When the funeral procession dragged across my bleeding thoughts, I saw Jamie standing a little bit away, pouring forth a river from her never ending soul. Inside my heart a voice cried out to her, but she had long been blinded to my words and I had forgotten how to communicate.
My life had been a veil and I unwillingly hid behind disabilities and handicaps, two words that shaped my future like patronizing hands. If I could perhaps discover my tongue inside the folds and caves of tender silence, maybe I could show that titles are simply a name. But for now I only had eyes and a mind that could not be quieted, and I watched with a dead sort of eagerness.
I saw him with Jamie often enough, even after the grass was green over the disturbed soil and the stone worn of gloss. He showed a reckless, daring sort of love that Jamie countered with her gentle and tearful ways. In time he became part of her, part of the idea she held, part of the air she breathed. It was counterintuitive that she hold him to her body when all in all, he would one day rest under the same soil, with or without the beautiful girl that seemed to float on insecurities.
The tutors came and went, but each had a shortcoming that sent them down the path of the Condescenders. Therapist and counselors were discarded with old memories, and although I clung to the milestones, they left Jamie's mind like unimportant insects. She had a Laugh-Giver and a Love-Offering and the words associated with my face grew until they were all anyone could see anymore.
I fought to believe that I wasn't drowning and that there was still air at some indefinite height that I could reach if I swam long enough. The dreams I stored were like butterflies and I prayed that they wouldn't leave in my sleep.
When Jamie was in white and was beautiful, I sat on the steps and I watched her, invisible to the cultured and forgotten to the thoughtful. Like a day, my world had ended and with it left the prizes I had gained and the truth I had entrusted in a fallible mind. Now controlled the assumptions, the impressions, the judgements, and the nights were a startling release from the tongues that did not rest.
Before long, Jamie had disappeared and left me with an empty house full of haunting illusions. And yet I struggled and I breathed and I worked, and the untarnished pages refused to burn with my wishes.
My mind was still young and my thoughts were not dull, but my voice had been lost in the wind and with death, and before death, and before life, and it was predestined and it was how it should be.
Of the two expressions I had not lost, only one was screaming. The other was more subtly discovered, like a face never forgotten or a sound always remembered. In my youthful desperation, I had misplaced the power of no names and had started believing the lies that Jamie lived. But I was not dead and I was not dull and I will not be silenced.
And when the music played, my voice mingled with the notes and again I breathed.
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