Ashes in my body
Oh dear, the little red on your lips…
My time pushed me day after day, after the tear breaks down, after the sunlight hides on the other side of the earth, after the water drops from a tap, after I put my hands down thinking nothing.
But I have never felt you. This struggling fills my wrath, yet I couldn’t let it go. Then it turned to ashes, falling down in my body like it has never burned even for once.
Then you say, let’s count the pills. One, two, three, they heal. Four, five, six, they hurt. Seven, eight, nine, they kill. And then, ten, eleven, twelve… You stop at the twenty five, took one pill, swallow down with water, then twenty six, twenty seven…
The ashes are still falling, like it will never stop. It will never stop, otherwise how the ash yard in my body comes from, otherwise how can I burry my pain underneath it, otherwise how can I be suffer itself thus when suffer comes to me I can feel nothing about it.
You stop again, look at me, it feels like you are looking at a stone from deep ocean.
“Oh…” you open your mouth, saying something I can’t hear.
“Yes,” I respond. Yet I don’t know what I responded to.
Then you put pills in my mouth. They are twenty five… no, no, I remember we have way passed that number. I remember we reached forty. We still counted a bit after that, so they are more than forty.
I don’t know. I just keep swallowing the pills, like a baby swallowing milk from his mother. I can’t remember me swallowing milk from my mother. Probably it never existed. I was separated from my mother. Yes, that’s true. She couldn’t hold me until I was a few months old. I do remember her kiss, but it was long after I was born. I was in a cell, looking around. I only saw strangers. Nothing I had known before, of course I was a new born baby, how could I get to know anything before. Yet I remember my mother’s warmth, which was not there. That was the first time my ashes fall.
Will these pills break my ash yard? I think so. I can already feel that that they go too deep in my body, some falling under the ashes. And there is the pain, suddenly becoming too strong that I almost scream.
“…” you are saying something.
You put the last pill in my mouth. And the pain is gone as sudden as it came. Right, so the ashes, don’t worry, they are still there. Somewhere in my body. But I can barely feel them.
I know ashes are there, grey and black, like my mood now. But my ash yard is moved, to a strange place I have never known in my body, like the cell I was in after I was born. No my mother, no my father. Right, I hadn’t seen their face yet. I didn’t know what they look like.
Of course I do now.
So what is this taste now, right, it is taste of blood. Why do I remember this? Let me think… Can’t recall. My mouth must have been bleeding, or I might have tasted my blood from my fingers. Yes, that’s right, from my fingers. I have sliced my fingers once. I could see bone. The blood came out like water from the tap. So I put my fingers in my mouth. Of course water from tap. That’s also my ashes.
So did where my ash yard go? It is in my body absolutely. But I can’t find it. It is like little kids hiding from each other. Why do little kids hide? It must be a game. Hide and then let one poor kid to find all of them. That is not fair. I saw a little girl crying, because she couldn’t find them. Boys tried to run away. She couldn’t catch them.
“It doesn’t count if you couldn’t catch us,” they told her.
So she cried. I remember I was standing next to her, tried to mock her. I could even see her ashes too. I am not the only one who has ash yard.
So I asked, “where did you ashes come from?”
Then she ran away, still crying. Boys put their hands on my shoulders, saying I did a great job on mocking her. My ashes were falling.
It seems I went too far. We should come back to my ash yard. Now I can feel it is around my heart. But I can’t tell exactly where it is. May be to the left side of the heart. Or right side. Right, it must be inside of my heart. I start to wonder what pills you put in my mouth, so that my ash yard could be moved. These are so many ashes, and they all moved to my heart. They were almost full of my entire body. And now they are all in my heart. Such density must make them so heavy. Oh, that’s why I feel my heart is falling.
You let me lie down, so my heart won’t take too long to fall out of my body. So when my heart leaves my body, there will be no more ashes inside of me. What an exciting moment. I have never felt a body without ashes.
“But you won’t feel anything,” you say.
How do you know what I am thinking? I must have talked.
“No, you didn’t talk,” you speak again.
I think you are right, I start to feel nothing. I think I am sinking into an ocean. I can even see a huge tap above me, the water drops keep falling down. Those water drops are big enough to contain me inside.
Seems my heart is out of my body now. But I still feel a few ashes inside of me. This little darkness is like the only spotlight in my body, still keeps me to feel. I love this feeling, like very people I have ever loved, like very moments I have ever regretted, like very words I have ever spoken.
I can open my eyes now, I even didn’t know when I closed them. But I can see you. A little bit red on your lips. Is that blood? Or your lipstick? I might need to taste it to find out. I do remember the taste of blood, don’t you forget that?