Six Year Old Man

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How well do you know the faces of people you know? I ascertain, well enough to distinguish from a mass. the features of the human face, if you list out are quite narrow and yet every last one of the seven billion is unique in its build. This baffled my mind as an eleven-year-old boy. 
On the day I was born, the joy around me was quite a satire. An orofacial cleft is not anything parents yearn for their children. 
Last that I remember, my sixth birthday disclosed what my face contaminated of. Apparently, not many nostrils engulfed upper lips like mine did. 
When friends from school played Rugby, I visited my special team of lanky tall dudes in sky white suits. They took quite some pride with their assignment on, if you guessed right, me.
I hung out whatever I hung out with Jo, an awesome guy, with a weird never-quenching thirst for science. We most certainly had great a lot of friends but with Jo I had more fun and we laughed a lot.
I scored great in attention, my presence always came with eyeballs that won't quit. This bickered constantly with my demeanour and that felt concealing and naked at the same time.
Back home, my most favourite possession will wait till dusk for me to get back. My bed. Though, I would get it wet on some mornings and feel shameful about it. This is also where the only person I'm sure I love, my mother would kiss me goodnight, turn off the lights and let me be by my own in the dark. She had the warmest hands and she smelled of paper. 

"All my deformity is a reflection of yours".
For however sense that sentence made in my head and also sounded great, I concluded it is totally doable for me to not talk every time I hear things across the room. I could never choose to be one of the lame trumpets on street. 
Jo spends most of his after-school time with this girl in his neighbourhood; so calling it a day, I often end up home much earlier than other kids from my class.
I wish to meet a girl one day too. I might even fall for her, like it happens on TV. God knows how it would be to always want to be with someone. 
Additionally, might I not look forward to smoking a pipe someday.
I hear tall people in my school talk art, about deformities and aesthetics that make a portrait priceless.
And that deformity they say is significant. 
I intend to do extraordinary stuff too. Being a curious six-year-old man, I have the potential to both vandalise visions and colour everything around me bright.
What keeps me wet all night, is the woman with the warm hands, who kisses me every night to bed and smiles but never once lays her pretty eyes there.

Image source: Antonio Mancini's " The Little Schoolboy"


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