Friday, December 13, 2013

Chapter 14: If I Could Write You

Chapter 14: If I Could Write You

I stared down at the paper. Nothing but a blank, white surface. Like my life now, my future. I couldn’t fathom stepping into that blankness, of moving on.
            Of moving beyond my last moments with him.
            All I had left of him was this: a task to show the world the brother, the friend, the man I know. Knew.
In a eulogy. An obituary. Cold, sharp words against my brain. Words I shied away from, cowered from.
But how do you distill a remarkable, intricate, utterly personal life down to a few lines of words? How do you show the colors and dimensions of a life in flat, black and white text?
            How do you resurrect memories without resurrecting the ghost, those haunting, precious, painful reminders?
            So I wrote the only thing I could—the dearest, most desperate wish of my heart:
If I could write you with words
Create you again
Blood and bones and body
Flowing from my pen
My heart
In streams of sentences and lines
That rebuild you
Stronger and better

If I could resuscitate you with language
Breathe life back into your lungs
With the words in my head
In my heart
Pulsing inside of you
Sustaining you

If I could fill your eyes with light
And the spark of life
Ignited from the power
Of this pen
On this paper
Words like fire
Burning from me
To you

If the poetry in my heart
Could become the life in yours
Keep you here
Bound here
In this world of words
And human emotions
And love

If I could unwrite your end
Edit out the pain
And suffering
Replace it with triumph and joy
And a hundred more years
And a happily ever after

If my words could alter reality and time
Change the world
Shift the course of your life
Remake you
Rewrite you
Just for a moment
I would
And then when the last word bled from me, wrung out of me like sweat and tears, I caved in on myself. Wrapping my arms around myself, around my heart that felt split in two, a hunk of bleeding flesh sitting at the bottom of my chest.
Other words came then, about a life and a brother. I stored them away in that battered heart for later and merely held myself together. 

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