All the Truth That's in Me

I don't believe in miracles, but if the need is great, a girl might make her own miracle.

There is a curious comfort in letting go. After the agony, letting go brings numbness, and after the numbness, clarity. As if I can see the world for the first time, and my place in it, independent of you, a whole vista of what may be. Even if it is not grand or inspiring, it is real and solid, unlike the fantasy I've built around you. I will do this. I will triumph over you.

And what rules of economy dictate that a boy without a foot is more whole than a girl without a tongue?

The people you save won't celebrate you. They'll gather the wood and cheer while you burn.

It's always you ladybird," he says softly "don't you know?

Like the clanging of the bell, the truth crashes in upon me. At last I understand. He took away my voice to save me. And now, to save myself, I take it back.

This will be a new amputation. You've been a part of my flesh, underneath all my skin. Your removal will bleed and leave me lame for a time.

If I thought I could never love you more, I didn't understand you well enough.

Like a soldier back from battle you fill my vision. You're a flood, a baptism I'd forgotten, and the force of you leaves me breathless.

It's a cold world when no one will touch you.

I don't believe in miracles, but if the need is great, a girl might make her own miracle. Even if that means enlisting the devil's help.

To tell the truth will make me loathsome in your eyes. Even more than I already am. I pledge to give you all the truth that's in me. And you want me to tell you this.

Did we risk our lives to defend a just society, where guilt must be proven and not assumed? Or are we no better than the oppressive kings from whom our fathers fled?

I have no words to save you.

There's no justice in this world, the things that happen to people.

A miracle that can never be: your face, your hands, pledged to me.

The stars' cold stare reminds me: worse than a sinner, I'm a thief. I steal the touch you would not choose to give me. You'll never know you've been robbed.

I never heard any angel voice but yours.

I remember the way Mother's eyes watched him. Like she could never get enough. She spent her life loving him, like I've spent mine loving you.

I nod. Young love is not always forever. I know.

That won’t excuse me for presuming to give my heart to you. It’s not your fault you broke it.

You’re a flood, a baptism I’d forgotten, and the force of you leaves me breathless.

My guilt was firm in their minds the moment my name was called, the moment my tongue was cut.

You are not like him. No matter what anyone says.

In every bit of beauty, I see you.

We were four people: the children we'd been, and grown strangers now.

My head is full of seeing you see me.

Strange how my body and its purity have become the town's sacred possessions, yet they spare me no pity. It's as if they were the ones wronged, not me.

Your father died the night the town believed he did, and my captor was born from his ashes. Two men, not alike, strangers to each other.

You'll be farther from me than ever, if unreachable wasn't already far enough.