Dec 22, 2006

you have something to say

Of the list of things that are healing, that need to heal, that will heal (that is, will begin the process of healing - with or without medical attention - because the body has it's own agenda) withdrawl steps in line.

They put it on hold.

Yes. It will wait. But not for long.

So you cough and shake. And it exhausts you.

The cigarettes that I dug out of your clothes? Don't worry. I smoked them.

It was for the best.

The El pass? I haven't smoked that yet. I'll keep it for you. That and a few others things.

You're awake and talking.

This came as a surprise on Wednesday.

No sound comes from your lips. But you're talking. You've got so much to say.

The best conversation I've had in weeks is the one I had with you today.

All eyes.

Handsome you. How do you do it?

Your eyes. Your smile. Your pissed off mood. Your silent laugh. Your incredulousness.

You roll your eyes.

You give me your hand.

You say things. You're amused. You're frustrated.

I hear you.

Sometimes I manage to read your lips.

hey, baby

somebody told me

I want

not cold




I love you


this thing is

So I brought over the page of phrases from the speech therapist. So that you could point to a box and say what you need to say.

Things like:

I am humgry.

I am in pain.

I love you.

I handed it to you. You took it from my hand and positioned it so that you could read it.

You looked at it for a very long time.

I pointed to the alphabet at the bottom. You could spell it out. Like a message on a Ouija board. Take your time. I'm listening.

Yes. You understood. You studied it.

Finally you pointed to the letter J. You looked at me to make certain that I got that.

That was J.

Yes. Got it. J.

Satisfied that I understood, you handed the alphabet back to me. That was it. You were done.


So I went to get a pen and paper. I put the pen in your hand and got the paper just where you wanted it. I told you to take your time.

You held the pen at the paper for a while.

Then I ran to my bag to get a felt tip. Brilliant. That would be better. I switched the pens.

I got the paper back in position.

The pen was in your hand. You were deffinitely holding the pen. The pad of paper was right. You proceeded to put the pen onto the paper.

And you held it there as you concentrated.

A blot started to form.

But then you started to move the pen. It was a struggle. But a shape started to form. A sort of C shape.

You paused. Thinking about the next thing to write. I said nothing. This was good. A good idea on my part. For once. I had an idea.

I felt really good about the whole thing.

You would now be able to say something. Anything. And I would be able to "read" it. What you have to say. And this would relieve you of all that you have to say.

And I was all ears. I didn't dare speak or move or break the spell.

I was so glad.

I looked at the paper. Focused all of my attention on the paper. You did, too.

And it might take time. But I was all in. I was ready. For whatever you had to say. Seriously it could be anything.

You drew a sort of C shape and handed the paper back to me.

C shape.

You waited to see what I thought.

I told you it was good.

You nodded in agreement.

Yes. It was good.

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