“ For a long time, people made him feel small. He turned inwards, he made himself small”
Someone who is not my brother digs his heels into the adjacent wooden chair. We are in the coffee shop. The acute angle of his upper and lower legs expands and contracts in a slow, steady rhythm as he calculates the degree to which he can protect his places of vitality.
“He made HIMSELF small. It was a self defense mechanism”
Someone who is not my brother presses his thumb and forefinger against his mouth in a solid attempt not to let a single secret slip. His dueling appendages bear a secret even the keeper cannot breach.
“He wouldn’t tell anyone. For a long time, people made him feel small.”
Someone who is not my brother’s flex frame limbs stutter as he tries to compact into the smallest space amountable. Insurmountable, shoulders jerk up on the outside and vulture downward toward the tabletop in order to avoid eye contact.
“He made himself small. It was a self defense mechanism.”
Someone who is not my brother stands alone outside the coffeeshop with two inches of embers wedged between his middle and forefinger pressed against his mouth until it begins to burn. His parchment paper flesh will not go up in flames. He can’t burn himself to death, but he could burn himself away.
“Then he realized that every time someone made him feel small, he could just go bigger.”
Someone who is not my brother’s flex frame limbs straighten out – as he inhales – as his lungs fill to their maximum capacity – as he exhales in a tone wavering lost between a love song and a war cry. His voice echoes outside the coffee shop – as the embers in his fingertips become a fire and he’s feeling it –
He could just GO BIGGER. Bigger than they could handle. He embraced big, even unfounded bigness.
Someone who is not my brother’s flex frame limbs STRAIGHTEN OUT as he – lifts his arms – as his head tilts back – as he gulps for air – as he tries to cup his hands around the secret he has stumbled upon
“EVEN. UNFOUNDED. BIGNESS.”
Someone who is not my brother’s flex frame limbs STRAIGHTEN OUT as he surrenders his palms to the depths of his not yet faded denim blue jeans – as he pulls out the already crinkled receipt – as he scribbles furiously – as if the words were planning their escape.
I- Am- Possible
So he began to write
I am possible tattooed the wall beside his bed that night– I am possible crawled across the inside cover of his favorite notebook.
Even. Unfounded. Bigness.
“Sometimes you already have the explosion, but not the size. You need to be bigger than your body allows you to be”
“Be bigger than your body lets you be ” tattoos the wall beside his bed at night, “ be bigger than your body let’s you be” crawls across the inside cover of his favorite notebook.
He said…
I am possible.
And…
You are possible. You just have to be bigger than your body allows you to be, and you will be.