A word. It excites me. It brings me back to life.
A look. A look of appreciation, of understanding , an encouragement to share more words. A look is what I hark for and after.
A smile. An easy smile which brings a twinkle in my eye and leads to mirthless laughter.
A sense of danger is what I want to surrender to and feed the vulnerability to. The hurt does not matter and neither does the disfiguration. The fear is not the fall from the edge. The fear is the endless wait on the precipice. The fear is not of the disjointed sentences or the groping for words. The fear is of waking up and being unable to speak.
