Monday, February 6, 2012
I remember painting lines across my face in lipstick, hollering and throwing tea over the balcony, home made Boston Tea Party. I remember the metallic taste of the spoon against my tongue, cream rich ice cream melting. I remember the heat of my cheeks, pushing tears back because the words wouldn't come and water loosened them. But sometimes
water just chokes the words out...
I remember clearing dirt of my fingernails, hiding them so no one thought I was unclean or dirty. I remember the size of my fingers, cracked doll hands against the long tapered hands of others. "So small!"
I'm not so small.
I remember when he first towered over me and grinned wide as a mile and patted me on the head. "Hello, little sister."
I'm not so little.
I remember telling him I didn't agree, trembling because the word 'no!' was wrong, bitter, against. I remember yelling because, that was the only way my voice would come out. Loud against the backdrop.
Excuse me, but I couldn't hear you over the sound of my own thoughts.
But Excuse me, You couldn't hear me over the thoughts of you own thoughts, either.
Swirls. I remember the mouse pitch of a sneeze between vibrato. I remember blue eyes with ice twinkles, brown eyes like a baby calf, warm and soft. I remember wild sea green eyes, kelp colored pupils.
I remember shivering because I was cold.
I remember being cold because no one was looking, no one saw me.
I shivered against being invisible.
Goosebumps for vision.
I remember the lyrics to the songs. I remember writing lyrics to the songs in my heads, but they fell out silent ink to paper.
"I want to be an astronaut and get high, break the barriers to the sky..I just wanna be free from the confines of gravity."
"I want to be the one to put it to a song."
You make the lyrics and the way I write, but no one knows. Inkheart, Little Woman, Paddington Bear with covers ripped off, dropped in bathtubs, thumbed, spined, dog-earred.
I remember screaming the lyrics till they lost meaning, dancing in my room alone to the Killers, dancing with her. Fedora on and pose in front of mirror. I remember rapping out of tune, laughing at the fallacies of my white beatlessness.
I remember putting on hoop skirts and somersaulting, leather gloves and feathered masks. I remember forcing the zipper up, inching dresses on.
I remembering buying the denim mini skirt and my dad saying I shouldn't wear it because he hated the idea. I wore leggings to cover the idea of exposure. I remember the first time I wore makeup and smeared eyeshadow all over my face. I vanished under the lids of brown paint eyes. I remember the hair on the floor, freedom and shake.
I remember the bright lights and the rise and falls of my voice. "It's an obvious fact to me..." The power as the words hit the air, mixing with static. I got this. I have this. Reaching out for the electricity in the room and sending the pulse through my skin.
I remember the stories told about my great grandmother, I remember her candy colored beads and the squeaky parakeet. I read her Dr. Seuss on her deathbed and cried when she couldn't here it.
"She's not listening, Mom!"
I remember the news "It's a boy!" and then crying, because I wanted "It's a girl!" I remember staying up late doing homework and yelling "GET OUT!" Trying to fix yelling by hugs: a sister remedy, mix and stir.
I remember that I remember him too much. I remember that I remember her too much. I remember that no one really knows how much I remember and I remember that maybe that is good.
I desired to be remembered in ink, in book spines, in the curve of your cheeks and the straightening of your wrinkles,broad shoulders, long hair. I remember that I came from matzah ball soup and yellow stars, history and the crash of destiny. I remember the silent vowels and the dropped syllables.
I remember me. I remember you. I remember us. I remember them.
Remember that I'll remember you.
Red ribbon tied around the finger, promise-to remember.