i was a deaf child.
It was me
Stumbling,
Somewhat confounded
By the towering blocks of
An invisible maze that i
Physically slammed into
With your every determination
It was my young, blank-slate life
That you painted bitter,
Folded into neat perfection
And tucked away on a dusty shelf
In a cabinet that you kept
Behind your plush leather chair
i was a deaf child.
It was me
Looking at you
With wide, wondering eyes
As you grabbed my pudgy hand
And yanked me
Towards lips that were dry, chapped, and
Too, too close
My skin resting against
The hot, sweaty surface of your
Gurgling throat and i remember
The way your teeth flashed metallic
While I studied (with scholarly flair)
The hair sticking out of your doughy chin
i was a deaf child.
It was me,
Legs dangling off an orange
Plastic chair in a
Rainbow cacophony of chairs
Against the ruddy brick wall of
Some school, somewhere
Watching your wringing hands
Your cheerful, condescending visage
Seeing you peek at me from the corner
Of your eye as you enlightened
My mother on the
Limited expanse of my world
Watching her guarded, hostile, and hopeful
Posture reach towards you
Like you were the answer
To a desperate prayer
Seeing your shoulders slowly
Relax as you basked
In her need
i was a deaf child
It was me–
Still is me
Only the years have fallen away
And I am taller, taller now
My fingers are longer
My hands stronger
And somehow still immobilized
In your presence as you
Stand guard
At the entrance of some esoteric laboratory
Where deaf children sit in stoic obedience
Obstructing me from that
Executive table where decisions
About deaf children are made
Lest the smut of my deafness
Tarnish your dazzling marble floors
Or the truth of my light and love
Make yours of pain and misery a lie
Such a revelation
Would be a shadow cast
Over your blossoming ego, which would
Shrivel back into its true size
Back to the tiny, wrinkled raisin
That you tried to mold me into.
