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Do You Hear My Voice?
Do you hear my voice?
I took the 8 x 16 photo paper out of the pack and placed it in the printer. I was always pleased with the quality of the Kodak printers. I sat back and pressed the print button, and watched as it began to swing left to right filling the page with bold vibrant colors, filling in the tones of sky, and clouds and grey. I looked at this photo so many times on my laptop, it seemed to always make me smile inside, for they say a picture speaks a thousand words, the volume of this photo rang clear and spoke truths of dreams and of the hope I needed in my life. All this a simple photo can do which is why I love photography. Photos can teleport you into private thoughts and experiences are brought to mind. Both the past and the future could be conjured up in a photo. By now the printer is cranking and I see the shape of her head and hair bleeding its colors on to the photo paper. Her eyes melt me again. I think to myself how can I be so wrong? What did I do? Is it because the breathing tube in my throat for weeks during my stay in the hospital seemed to have damaged my vocal cords?
Have my lungs and cords been disrupted so much whereby you can’t understand me when I say I love you? I can’t speak it as loud as I used to, but I do make an effort even hurting myself at times, both in voice and in spirit. For it’s the former man that I wish I was. Yet I’ve grown quiet because I think even if you do hear my words, and see my actions, they are cluttered in the storms of life and circumstances. And I don’t know if the pieces will ever be brought together again, and if even so… I don’t want suffrage on your part, or tears in your eyes. But if there is life in me, there is still an incredible amount of love within me…. With the intellect to execute the essence there of, even with my weak physicality. I do acquiesce kicking and screaming like an idiot. Yet it’s my right to do so.
The printer is finished and the photo has been rendered. I’m still in awe and wonder of you… I cry inside that you still hear my voice, as weak and feeble as it may be… I still speak…
