And this, this transition, this is something else, something entirely beyond, and looking at normal, white walls, and my hands, my hands tangled in this perfectly ordinary carpet, soft and scuffed, warm against my cold, cold hands, and then my brother
Brian is throwing his arms around me, and there is some strange noise now, some rasping sort of honk, and I realize it's me, it's my voice, and I am laughing, something hot and wet on my face, stinging, and it's tears, and I don't know whether it's relief or sadness or joy, but there is light, real light, warm light, and maybe I'm safe now, my lips hurting, my hands hurting, the cold that seeped into my bones gradually uncracking its grip.
"Did we make it?"
All that dark. All that cold. All those years. All that blood and madness. Is this really how it ends? Peace and light and laughter? Have I deserved that? Have I really?
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2007-01-17 11:09 pm (UTC)Brian is throwing his arms around me, and there is some strange noise now, some rasping sort of honk, and I realize it's me, it's my voice, and I am laughing, something hot and wet on my face, stinging, and it's tears, and I don't know whether it's relief or sadness or joy, but there is light, real light, warm light, and maybe I'm safe now, my lips hurting, my hands hurting, the cold that seeped into my bones gradually uncracking its grip.
"Did we make it?"
All that dark. All that cold. All those years. All that blood and madness. Is this really how it ends? Peace and light and laughter? Have I deserved that? Have I really?