I was robbed of my words, and for the first time I was dumb. Not speechless, dumb.
I could feel it, but I couldn't speak.
Lately, I realize I was too dumb to be speechless in the first place. Or may be I was too coward to express. for when we do express our feelings, we're actually making our position vulnerable. Vulnerable to interpretation, open to dissection with sharp objects which could glide in and make that red liquid pour out so easily. And these injuries are those rare ones when morphine simply refuse to work. You're just left there, suffering, cringing in pain, suffering, until u feel numb. And later you learn to deceive yourself with stories, with smiles, with imaginations. One day, you realize, u forgot how to speak.
My story was just like yours. I just thought you might understand how I feel. Now that we're dumb, we can't tell each other our stories. But we could pour our hearts and have a toast after all. Isn't it a beautiful day with the trees tossing their green plumage and wind singing. I feel like singing along.
It must have been a beautiful day when I spoke first. It must had been a rare moment when some magic flute had sung life into my soul. Speaking is such a wonderful gift. A way of communicating the wonders i know, a way of knowing what wonders are just round the wall, beyond that road, under the clouds. I've always loved rain because it can sing, it can dance, it can tell stories, it can roar, it can fly, it can drown and frown. I loved being blown away with the windy water. I loved sailing in paper boats, or drowning in puddles. I love how rain taught me how to love. Rain is so good with words! It must had been raining when i spoke first!
Isn't it a beautiful day? I can see clouds as far as my sight goes. See that one, looks just like a turtle's shell. And the darker one beyond, just like my hills i used to paint in my drawing book. The white one? I cant make out what its like.. its just so beautiful. Hey the one on the left looks like a heart. I'll gift it to you. I love that smile of yours.
I'm so glad I can't stop talking when everything's so alive. The gust of dusty wind, water drops on my window pane, the smell.
"You're talking", you say smiling.
I stare, speechless...
I could feel it, but I couldn't speak.
Lately, I realize I was too dumb to be speechless in the first place. Or may be I was too coward to express. for when we do express our feelings, we're actually making our position vulnerable. Vulnerable to interpretation, open to dissection with sharp objects which could glide in and make that red liquid pour out so easily. And these injuries are those rare ones when morphine simply refuse to work. You're just left there, suffering, cringing in pain, suffering, until u feel numb. And later you learn to deceive yourself with stories, with smiles, with imaginations. One day, you realize, u forgot how to speak.
My story was just like yours. I just thought you might understand how I feel. Now that we're dumb, we can't tell each other our stories. But we could pour our hearts and have a toast after all. Isn't it a beautiful day with the trees tossing their green plumage and wind singing. I feel like singing along.
It must have been a beautiful day when I spoke first. It must had been a rare moment when some magic flute had sung life into my soul. Speaking is such a wonderful gift. A way of communicating the wonders i know, a way of knowing what wonders are just round the wall, beyond that road, under the clouds. I've always loved rain because it can sing, it can dance, it can tell stories, it can roar, it can fly, it can drown and frown. I loved being blown away with the windy water. I loved sailing in paper boats, or drowning in puddles. I love how rain taught me how to love. Rain is so good with words! It must had been raining when i spoke first!
Isn't it a beautiful day? I can see clouds as far as my sight goes. See that one, looks just like a turtle's shell. And the darker one beyond, just like my hills i used to paint in my drawing book. The white one? I cant make out what its like.. its just so beautiful. Hey the one on the left looks like a heart. I'll gift it to you. I love that smile of yours.
I'm so glad I can't stop talking when everything's so alive. The gust of dusty wind, water drops on my window pane, the smell.
"You're talking", you say smiling.
I stare, speechless...
No comments:
Post a Comment