Sometimes all it takes is a whisper into the void.
But you have no voice left, just the croaking gasp of the amphibious. The exhalation of breath from lips yet to be kissed and transformed.
You’ve been cursed, dove to the darkest waters, and only surfaced when your lungs burned for air. You are a creature that needs breath, after all. You are tethered between worlds. The dark cool of solitude you plunge into and the glaring truth and light as you break the skin of the water.
You might be wretched. You might be beautiful. But you’re pretty sure it’s the former because no one stays long to look at you.
No one paints your picture or reaches their hands gently towards you. Only boys with glass jars and cruel smiles and ferocious curiosity. Reaching out to trap you. And you’ve been caught before and taunted. You are a plaything. Turned this way and that. Flopping helplessly.
And that’s made you wonder as well. Because if you were beautiful, wouldn’t you be spoken to softly and petted like a treasured pet? Wouldn’t you be fed and cared for and named? But you have no name, at least not one that you can remember.
If only the surface of the water would still and you could see clearly. But the wind ripples the surface, a thousand voices thundering and you can never see clearly.
If only you could recall the words at the beginning of the story. You’re certain that once upon a time, there was more than this. More than what you’ve become.
And you’ve live this life, so close to reptile that people often get it wrong. You wish you were a serpent, because then at least they’d have to fear you and you’ve have bite but you’re flubber bellied and rubbery. You are a joke.
This is the stuff of fairly tales and make believe and everyone knows that one’s true identity is only revealed when fate and destiny clash together and someone takes a second look. Someone stops to notice you and name you and decide you have a part in the story after all. A redemption of slimy green skin and warts and eyes that bulge in a world too vulgar and cursed.
You’ve heard the whispers, and all the whimsy and enchantment of childhood tales hold some truth. If only someone would really see you. If only someone would whisper into the void. If only someone could give you breath.
Ok, So I know I didn’t actually use the word ENCOURAGEMENT in the post but this is what came out. I think it may be all the time reading with the littles of late, my mind is here and there. Anyhow, weird. I guess that’s the fun of Five Minute Friday free writing, you never know where you’re going to go or where you’re going to end up. You just enjoy the ride.
Wanna know more about facing fears and letting your words free? Every Friday a fierce group of word weavers gather to throw caution to the wind and write brave for 5 minutes. No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
Wanna join? Head over to Lisa Jo Baker’s and jump in.