Sunday, September 11, 2011

9/11


I was three. At home, with my parents. My sister was about one and a half. My other sister was nonexistent. We were shephered out of the living room, away from our small television set, as the towers were struck and until they fell.

Life went on. I was oblivious. Preschool came and went; as did kindergarten. And then, we come to first grade at Van Allen Elementary with Mrs. Davis.

It was circle time. We all came to the carpet at the front of the room and she took her seat at the front. I remember, I sat on the edge, by one of my friends. She told us that we were going to make a banner for troops going to Iraq. I remember someone asking, "Why are they going?" "How long will they be gone?" And that was when I figured out what happened. As she told the story, in terms that would not harm a child, I learned that the Twin Towers fell. For a long time, I thought that they were still there. I learned that there were people who wanted to hurt us. It was there, in Mrs. Davis' first grade class, that I learned what happened. I also was told that the war in Iraq was supposed to end when I was in fourth grade. Well, I'm in eighth grade now, and it is still raging on in the Middle East.



For the first time on the ninth, Friday, in my ELP (Extended Learning Program) class, we watched the towers get struck, North first, South second, and we watched them burn. I was right up front. Then, after a few minutes of watching the scorching buildings, hearing only the static of silence, we watched them fall. Then, when it was over, a question was asked: "Does anyone have anything to say?" No one said anything. And I buried my face in my hands and I cried. I tried to gather myself, but it was so hard. It was the first time I've seen that footage. I had never seen it before, and it has been ten years. My best friend and I sat, side-by-side, both crying. Afterwards, we had to write about it. My hands were shaking and I wrote, "There are no words. The only one that comes to mind is complete and utter disbelief."

I've been told that I'm hopelessly emotional. I've been told that I cry a lot. I've been told that I'm very mature. All of these things are true. I cry at a lot of things, because there are certain things that move me. And I hate crying, but I cry. This day, even ten years later, moves me to tears because of all the lives that were lost. The sheer magnitude of the loss that America endured on that day. I didn't know anyone personally in those two towers, but I can say that just the idea that their children didn't get to say goodbye, that their wives and husbands will live on without them, that they died in such an awful way, and some were never found... it makes me cry just thinking about it. And why shouldn't it? Death is so final, so abrupt, that we could never comprehend what to do if it were to come for us. Would you sacrifice yourself, or another? Is that how I want to be remembered? Am I going to die today, right here?

Rest their souls, those that died. All 2,983 of you. You are not forgotten. In your honor, we became one, one nation, one race, one mind, one body, unified. You are missed. You are loved. You will never be forgotten.

Stay thoughtful.
Stay unified.
Stay commemorating.

Keep it ugly.





You're not in this alone



Let me break this awkward silence


Let me go, go on record


Be the first to say I'm sorry


Hear me out,


And if you take me down


Or would you lay me out


And if the world needs something better


Let's give them one more reason now, now, now




We walk in single file


We light our rails and punch our time


Ride escalators colder than a cell




This broken city sky like butane on my skin


stolen from my eyes


Hello Angel, tell me where are you


Tell me where we go from here




This broken city sky like butane on my skin

Tell me we go from...


stolen from my eyes


Hello Angel, tell me where are you


Tell me where we go from here




And in this moment we can't close the lids on burning eyes


Our memories blanket us with friends we know like fallout vapors


Steel corpses stretch out towards an ending sun, scorched and black


It reaches in and tears your flesh apart


As ice cold hands rip into your heart




That's if you've still got one that's left inside that cave you call a chest


And after seeing what we saw, can we still reclaim our innocence


And if the world needs something better, let's give them one more reason now




This broken city sky like butane on my skin


stolen from my eyes


Hello Angel, tell me where are you


Tell me where we go from here




This broken city sky like butane on my skin

Tell me we go from here
 
stolen from my eyes


Hello Angel, tell me where are you


Tell me where we go from here

"Skylines and Turnstiles"

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