Illustration by Jaimee Lee Haddad
Dear house with the evergreen shutters,They say that the body remembers. I wonder if the bricks and mortar that make up yours remember too. Do you carry the pain of your pedigree like I carry the pain of mine?I feel the agony in my bones when I recall the days you were just a young skeleton. My uncle revived your bloodline through a blueprint. Your forebear stood the test of time against merciless odds. Through a labor of love and renovation, your lineage was resuscitated on a land timeless and evergreen, like the color of your wooden shutters. When we fled the village, we drained you of your blood and guts. You were still and pale, like a corpse possessed by past lives.These days I keep to myself. Silence conceals my jaded yearning for a rare type of understanding that comes with shared experience: Empathy that is organic, not conjured....
Dear house with the evergreen shutters,They say that the body remembers. I wonder if the bricks and mortar that make up yours remember too. Do you carry the pain of your pedigree like I carry the pain of mine?I feel the agony in my bones when I recall the days you were just a young skeleton. My uncle revived your bloodline through a blueprint. Your forebear stood the test of time against merciless odds. Through a labor of love and renovation, your lineage was resuscitated on a land timeless and evergreen, like the color of your wooden shutters. When we fled the village, we drained you of your blood and guts. You were still and pale, like a corpse possessed by past lives.These days I keep to myself. Silence conceals my jaded yearning for a rare type of understanding that comes with shared experience: Empathy that is organic, not...