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theredoesnotexist) wrote2025-06-24 05:30 pm
theredoesnotexist) wrote2025-06-24 05:30 pm
Entry tags:
The child who could not scream
When he was born, his first breath was cold
But he didn’t scream. So they declared him
The healthiest baby they’ve ever seen,
So much that he didn’t even need
The blanket they had ready for him.
So they handed him back to his parents and his first
Lesson from the world was that it was cold,
And his second was that there would
Be offered no warmth.
When he was learning to walk
He fell and scraped himself
And did not scream.
But children always scream when they’re hurt
So when he said, “I’m hurt,” calmly,
Without tears, they said to him,
“No, you aren’t. If you were, you would
Have screamed. This is unimportant.
Lying is wrong,” they told him.
So he never received a bandage
And never asked for one again.
When his room was cold at night,
He never slept with a blanket.
He had learned that lying is wrong
And he wasn’t cold.
When he was in school
Other kids started to push him
After class on the playground.
They would hit him when no one would see,
So the child went to a teacher
And said, “The other kids are hurting me.”
But the teacher never heard him scream. So he was told,
“No, they aren’t. If they were, you should
Have screamed. This is unimportant.
Exaggerating is wrong,” he was told.
So he never saw the cruelty prevented
And never expected to again.
When it was cold outside,
His body never shivered, even involuntarily.
It had learned that lying is wrong, exaggerating is wrong,
And he wasn’t cold.
When he was going to work one day,
Just once, for a moment,
There was something in the air
That chilled his breath and suddenly, all at once,
Over his body came every shiver of a cold that had never been quelled, and every scrape that had never been given a bandage, and every bruise from a hit that had never been prevented,
And over his mind came every rage at injustices unnoticed, and every betrayal of pain dismissed as a fantasy, and every dolor of a child never offered warmth.
All at once. And he screamed.
The man who never screamed fell to the ground and grabbed his head and wept and screamed,
“Help me, oh my god. Help me.”
So people rushed to him and asked, “What? What’s wrong? What do you need help with?”
But he couldn’t say. He didn’t know the word injustice, or betrayal, or dolor, or bruise or scrape or cold.
He only knew the words lie and exaggerate and unimportant.
So he told them he didn’t know, that he was wrong, and apologized,
And went to work.
And when the man went to bed that night
He slept without a blanket
And wasn’t cold.
But he didn’t scream. So they declared him
The healthiest baby they’ve ever seen,
So much that he didn’t even need
The blanket they had ready for him.
So they handed him back to his parents and his first
Lesson from the world was that it was cold,
And his second was that there would
Be offered no warmth.
When he was learning to walk
He fell and scraped himself
And did not scream.
But children always scream when they’re hurt
So when he said, “I’m hurt,” calmly,
Without tears, they said to him,
“No, you aren’t. If you were, you would
Have screamed. This is unimportant.
Lying is wrong,” they told him.
So he never received a bandage
And never asked for one again.
When his room was cold at night,
He never slept with a blanket.
He had learned that lying is wrong
And he wasn’t cold.
When he was in school
Other kids started to push him
After class on the playground.
They would hit him when no one would see,
So the child went to a teacher
And said, “The other kids are hurting me.”
But the teacher never heard him scream. So he was told,
“No, they aren’t. If they were, you should
Have screamed. This is unimportant.
Exaggerating is wrong,” he was told.
So he never saw the cruelty prevented
And never expected to again.
When it was cold outside,
His body never shivered, even involuntarily.
It had learned that lying is wrong, exaggerating is wrong,
And he wasn’t cold.
When he was going to work one day,
Just once, for a moment,
There was something in the air
That chilled his breath and suddenly, all at once,
Over his body came every shiver of a cold that had never been quelled, and every scrape that had never been given a bandage, and every bruise from a hit that had never been prevented,
And over his mind came every rage at injustices unnoticed, and every betrayal of pain dismissed as a fantasy, and every dolor of a child never offered warmth.
All at once. And he screamed.
The man who never screamed fell to the ground and grabbed his head and wept and screamed,
“Help me, oh my god. Help me.”
So people rushed to him and asked, “What? What’s wrong? What do you need help with?”
But he couldn’t say. He didn’t know the word injustice, or betrayal, or dolor, or bruise or scrape or cold.
He only knew the words lie and exaggerate and unimportant.
So he told them he didn’t know, that he was wrong, and apologized,
And went to work.
And when the man went to bed that night
He slept without a blanket
And wasn’t cold.
Wow!