I use words like make-up to cover a bruise
Paper Mache lie exoskeleton in 12pt font
Linguistic plastic surgery to alter my appearance
Not for your sake
for mine
I am verbal camouflage
Covering my forest of doubt
Alphabetic Misdirection
There is truth in this fiction
But you never know what part
I told a story once of a child named Brian
He was such a promising kid
Nothing ever bothered him
He was good at everything he touched.
People loved him.
He could have been anything he wanted.
He cried in a closet at night.
Wept into his sweaters so no one would hear.
This is my good side
The one you still respect
The one who hasn't told you everything
Except what you wanted to hear.
One day I will write the story of a child named Brian
The scared little boy who bribed the coolest kid in school.
Packet of fruit snacks to sit with me on the bus.
Two fruit roll-up to get picked in the top three for kickball.
So insecure he crawled into the shell and forgot how to get out.
No one really loved him for who he was...only what he could do.
One day he just stopped...
11 comments:
Awww, Brian.... Thanks for sharing...
I find it peculiar that, with our own experiences, we feel that we are unique and that nobody has felt the same pain, loss, hunger, what have you.
But, most of us have similar tales.
Thanks for letting me hear yours.
P.S. - The part about the paper mache...it strikes a really strange parallel to my last art assignment. It didn't turn out as well as I would like, but you'll get the gist. I'll post this weekend.
Dito
Stopped what?? Stopped doing? Stopped being insecure? Stopped...?
Damn you. My brain is too bungled to do this right now. I'll come back to it after a long nap.
Stopped "doing" anything at all.
I think about that sometimes.
Instead of fruit snacks I used bubble gum and it wasn't an outright bribe, more of a "look what I've got and will continue to bring if you pay attention to me" thing.
Hi Brian, what you wrote was heavy. Such pain, such vivid memories.
Say, BTW, I ordered your book and last weekend it arrived and I got to read it. Again, intense pain, vivid descriptions. [Incidentally I think you're still stuck in the oral/rectal phase - but you knew that.]
Now that I've read your book I'm going to do the greater good and donate your book to my local library, so that other people in my town can read it too. Don't take offense at me not keeping it, but in part my overflowing book collection has created some strife for me at home.
Best wishes, 90hazelnut
I'd say that the child named Brian turned out pretty damn good. And I don't even have fruit roll-ups stuck in my teeth while I write this.
I think you are a profoundly talented, smart, funny, caring, fun person and I wish we lived closer so we could hang out. My hugs would make you feel better. :)
But seriously-thanks for sharing this. It blew me away.
Damn Brian where are MY fruit rollups?
I'm with Rocket on this one. Ditto my love. =)
oh Brian I love it when you blog like this!!!! I'm sorry the bumps along your road have been so hard to navigate - but if not for the pain and struggle, there would be no beautiful writing. Next time you feel the need to hide in the sweaters, I hope it's for the softly comforting peaceful bliss you feel in their envelopment - not for their tear absorption and noise muffling abilities. By the way - I loved you for who you were - AND what you could do! Even though we hit a few big bumps together I can look back now and be thankful for the lessons learned and wish you well on the continuation of your road!
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