Status: Complete.
Remember Them In All Their Crippled Glory
1/1
You're smiling and laughing and you're happy. I am smiling and nodding and I am happy, because you are happy.
You aren't happy very often.
You swipe your finger across the glass, you draw a star....and you laugh.
And I shake my head, at your ability to find happiness in the most commonplace places.
And I push away the memories of all the time you found sadness with a knife.
You're pointing now, at a window across from us. And your eyes have gone wide, your voice has hushed.
All I see are a few drops beading on the icy window. But you think it's beautiful, so I hush too.
And I demand bitterly from God, why you can see the beauty in a icy glass window but never yourself.
You're smiling, you're happy...and this is how I like to remember you.
Because in truth, you're gone. You're gone, and I'm still holding on to you.
And I draw stars on icy windows and stare at the beads of water dripping down them, but I can never find what you saw.
You are like the window, in many ways. You are the glimpse of the outside world through the lines of the star.
The glimpse of something so beautiful, something so incredible...but it's covered up with fog, and so you can only see a small part of it.
You are the beauty in the window. You saw your reflection; you saw through the fog when nobody else could.
But you didn't, couldn't, know that you were looking at yourself. And so you were the beads of water dripping down the window- the tears.
You were both.
And I've discovered...that that's OK. I've discovered that I can smile and cry when I think of you...and I've realised, what that means.
I am remembering you. Not half of you, not three fourths or two thirds. You, in all of your crippled glory.
You were a glimpse of the world through a star and the beads of rain on a window.
And I may never understand, why something as incredible as you had to be so broken...but I know that I wouldn't give up either of those memories, those pieces, for anything.
Because they were you, and that's not somebody I'd ever want to forget.
You aren't happy very often.
You swipe your finger across the glass, you draw a star....and you laugh.
And I shake my head, at your ability to find happiness in the most commonplace places.
And I push away the memories of all the time you found sadness with a knife.
You're pointing now, at a window across from us. And your eyes have gone wide, your voice has hushed.
All I see are a few drops beading on the icy window. But you think it's beautiful, so I hush too.
And I demand bitterly from God, why you can see the beauty in a icy glass window but never yourself.
You're smiling, you're happy...and this is how I like to remember you.
Because in truth, you're gone. You're gone, and I'm still holding on to you.
And I draw stars on icy windows and stare at the beads of water dripping down them, but I can never find what you saw.
You are like the window, in many ways. You are the glimpse of the outside world through the lines of the star.
The glimpse of something so beautiful, something so incredible...but it's covered up with fog, and so you can only see a small part of it.
You are the beauty in the window. You saw your reflection; you saw through the fog when nobody else could.
But you didn't, couldn't, know that you were looking at yourself. And so you were the beads of water dripping down the window- the tears.
You were both.
And I've discovered...that that's OK. I've discovered that I can smile and cry when I think of you...and I've realised, what that means.
I am remembering you. Not half of you, not three fourths or two thirds. You, in all of your crippled glory.
You were a glimpse of the world through a star and the beads of rain on a window.
And I may never understand, why something as incredible as you had to be so broken...but I know that I wouldn't give up either of those memories, those pieces, for anything.
Because they were you, and that's not somebody I'd ever want to forget.