I once had a huge family with lots of brothers and sisters. I had lots of friends too. We used to dig into the dirt together. We bathed in the sunlight every day. We watched the birds and listened to them sing. We welcomed them as they nested in our arms. Squirrels chattered. Bugs crawled everywhere. Even the monkeys had fun swinging from our limbs. I remember all the noises, all the creatures, all my friends and family.
Then they came. They carried loud, sharp weapons that dug into our skin. We bled, but they did not stop. Our leaves shook as we wept, yet they did not stop. They did not hear our plea. And we fell one by one. The birds no longer returned to our arms. The squirrels ran away. The monkeys skittered to a more peaceful place, but the bugs stayed. They stayed for me.
The harsh sun beats down on my rough skin. No longer do my sisters and brothers entwine their arms with mine and rest in the shade. No longer do my friends bury their feet in the ground. No longer does my mom rest her hand against my cheek. All around me the ground is torn, an empty graveyard, a reminder of what I’ve lost.
These are all roles I play, but they do not define me. I cannot be defined because I am too complex as each of you are complex. Too many things in my life have made me into the person I am today, too many to place me in a neat, little box. I am forever outside the box.
February 16, 2014 - Demonstrate
Please demonstrate your powers. You say you can fly, but I don’t believe you. I don’t know anyone who can fly. No one in my family can. None of my friends fly. How can you fly? Go on, little birdie, spread your wings and fly.
February 17, 2014 - trifle
Sometimes I might think that a rock is trifle, but to my daughter it’s of the utmost importance. She loves to play with them and examine them and throw them down to see what they do whereas I usually ignore them and walk right over them. The little things we take for granted are amazing to children. Everything is new to them. We just need to take a closer look at the small things and imagine them through the eyes of a child.
February 18, 2014 - talon
Its talons ripping at my clothes, the ferocious bird cawed and beat its wings towards my face. I tried to cover my face with my hands, but its beak tore at my skin. I cried out.
February 19, 2014 - striped
He tiptoed down the stairs in his striped pajamas. He had heard a noise from his room. His mom thought he was sleeping, but he was just too excited, so when he heard the noise he decided to investigate. He silently poked his head over the stair railing to see who was in the living room, but when he saw his mom his mouth dropped open and his eyes opened wide. She was putting presents under the tree, a cookie popped in her mouth. That cookie was for Santa! What was she doing?
So many orphans, she thought as she stood outside the cafeteria door. I wish I could take them all home with me. Then she spotted a little brown-haired girl standing in the line reaching for an apple. Something about her seemed familiar: the shape of her face, the color of her eyes. Could this be her friend’s baby grown into a young girl?
February 7, 2014 - third
I’m on my third dream. Dancing didn't work out. I have two left feet, so my Mama says, and Bobby’s still limping from our last dance. Singing was a catastrophe. I think the neighbors moved because of me. So now I’m going to try acting. Yeah, that one sounds good, never mind that Mama says I should go into accounting. Who wants to crunch numbers all day long? I want to be famous!
February 12, 2014 - disappear
Sometimes I wish I could disappear into the vast world of words. No screaming. No crying. No worries. Just my head in a book.