Postcards From No Man's Land
Primavera
At the age of 15, you suddenly began to have nightmares. Sometimes they were the monsters that lived in your closet and under your bed long ago, the ones that had fangs and fur and blood like rivers, trickling from their lips. More often than not though it was a monster much closer to home. Closer to you. You mumbled in your sleep about the monster who took rainbow pills that made him empty of soul but full of words. You cried over the monster with the dead stares and sharp-edged ribs.
If I hadn't heard you crying out in your sleep, I probably never would have known that I was the monster who haunted you both in your waking hours and slumber.
On nights where you woke up screaming, your throat shredded and raw, I knew you were dreaming of beasts with black holes for eyes and the sterile hospital rooms that had caged your childhood. It was the nights where I crept into your bedroom and found you crying without noise, drenched in icy sweat, your mouth open, your throat strained; those haunted me the most. Your lips were forming my name, yet only silenced whispers sounded. You were reaching out into the air before your face, but there was no one to guide your restless hands. Your silent screams were always the worst.
I took to sleeping on the floor in your room at night. You never knew. You were stuck in the midst of puberty, and you needed more sleep than was ever offered. I would never actually sleep; chronic insomnia and the aid of my candy-pills kept my mind always turning even late into the night. Instead I would lie amongst blankets and pillows on your carpet, and when I heard your whimpers and ragged gasps, I would rise and I would sing to you.
Primavera
Spring and lush
Feed the morning, flame the rush
Come and sun my morning eyes
Whisper petals, whisper lies
Primavera softly sighs
Winter's earth and wet and fresh
Primavera's sweetened breath
Pearls for eyes and lips of rose
Dance upon your nimble toes
Primavera after snow
I was Winter. Dry and brittle. Cold as ice. Blood was stilled and frozen in my veins. I brought with me frost wherever my chilled bones rattled and clinked, like a skeleton.
But you, Mikey, you were my Primavera. My Spring. Even in your restless sleep, you brought with you a light that countered all the darkness that I, as Winter, brought upon us.
You bloomed like the flowers that grew upon your smile. My Primavera, you lit up my world.
If I hadn't heard you crying out in your sleep, I probably never would have known that I was the monster who haunted you both in your waking hours and slumber.
On nights where you woke up screaming, your throat shredded and raw, I knew you were dreaming of beasts with black holes for eyes and the sterile hospital rooms that had caged your childhood. It was the nights where I crept into your bedroom and found you crying without noise, drenched in icy sweat, your mouth open, your throat strained; those haunted me the most. Your lips were forming my name, yet only silenced whispers sounded. You were reaching out into the air before your face, but there was no one to guide your restless hands. Your silent screams were always the worst.
I took to sleeping on the floor in your room at night. You never knew. You were stuck in the midst of puberty, and you needed more sleep than was ever offered. I would never actually sleep; chronic insomnia and the aid of my candy-pills kept my mind always turning even late into the night. Instead I would lie amongst blankets and pillows on your carpet, and when I heard your whimpers and ragged gasps, I would rise and I would sing to you.
Primavera
Spring and lush
Feed the morning, flame the rush
Come and sun my morning eyes
Whisper petals, whisper lies
Primavera softly sighs
Winter's earth and wet and fresh
Primavera's sweetened breath
Pearls for eyes and lips of rose
Dance upon your nimble toes
Primavera after snow
I was Winter. Dry and brittle. Cold as ice. Blood was stilled and frozen in my veins. I brought with me frost wherever my chilled bones rattled and clinked, like a skeleton.
But you, Mikey, you were my Primavera. My Spring. Even in your restless sleep, you brought with you a light that countered all the darkness that I, as Winter, brought upon us.
You bloomed like the flowers that grew upon your smile. My Primavera, you lit up my world.