I see you with clouded
grey nihilistic eyes
through a thick curtain
of smoke and years
it seems a little sad sometimes
if I think too hard about it
like how I've never called anyone "dad"
I never thought that was tragic
it seems like a heavy dead word
no face and no voice to go along
devoid of meaning
save for a foggy word
stranger

as I'm writing this
I try very hard to stand
in your place on this earth
realizing I don't know you at all
it’s been said my little sister
has your laugh and your smile
but I can't even remember
what you look like
what your voice is like
I never even realized I missed out
on anything at all
I had two mothers and one father
none of them were you

I don't wish I knew you
yet somehow I wish you knew me
as if it would change anything
or make you feel shame
with only my face
fifteen years in my eyes
that my mother carried alone
on her shoulders
as if I weighed nothing

maybe I'd tell you about
all you missed out on
but it'd be the same thing
as going up to any man on the street
telling him he missed out on
seeing me grow up
he'd have no reason to feel guilt
but I think you might …

you'll be gone one day
I will stand on the fresh dirt
a grey tombstone with your name
which is also my name
I wonder if you'll seem
less dead or more dead
than how dead you seem now

you've been gone for years
in fact, you were never there
which is why I don't miss you
in fact, sometimes I think leaving
or rather letting us go
was the only good thing you did
you left the archive in my head
with your name on it
empty
but even in your absence
an echo of what should have been

I do have to admit
the silence downstairs
is both peace and loneliness
I stare into the void
with milky white eyes
as I think about the things
I lost before I had
to let go
of what is already lost
and ungrasp with no fear
to long for no ghost
who might have corrupted
the very essence of my soul
but even in your absence
a stain;
whose name is but an empty shell
a word scribbled and scratched
on a cardboard box
in the back of my head
the mere shadow of a man
who has written this poem
along with me

whenever they gave awards at school
iwas always so happy to come home
and give you the white piece of paper
that read "GOLD HONORS"
i think you even used to
put it on the fridge for a while
back then all i wanted to be
was a writer
i thought people would think
it was silly
but it stuck with me

when i´d wake up you'd always have
waffles and a banana milkshake
on the table for my breakfast
i was younger than ten
but now i realize what it meant
to wake up earlier than everyone else
and make food for each
of your little chickens

we had two red cars:
one for each of you
abuelo kept his car so clean
and always smelled so clean
he’d buy flowers
for the women on their birthdays
it was a grand gesture
i understand more than ever
now that no one gives me flowers

there's this thing you used to say, Abue
about each and every one of us
how you loved us
the way you loved your fingers
each one so different
some shorter some longer
a lot of the things you say
they stick to my head
but i understood then
and i understand now
you can love a lot of different people
in a lot of different ways

it gets a little cold now
i know things are a little sad now
with no thanksgiving dinner
or christmas and midnight
with cheese and wine
it'd be so much better now i´m older
i understand things a little bit more
like how precious a warm meal is
and how things are always better
when you're surrounded
by family and warmth

the last time we saw each other
you let me read The Pigman
and we watched Persépolis together
i cry a little each time at the end
when the grandma lets the jasmine
fall in slow motion from her breast
it's the sort of thing grandmothers do
that make you feel so warm inside
like the scars from your C section
i always thought were so beautiful

it's been years since i saw you
my mom woke me up early that day
to pick you up at the airport
it was supposed to be a surprise
but I had this feeling something was up
i couldn't believe it when i saw you
my grandparents walking towards me
and i was so happy to hug you
you smell like a mother
i don't know what it means
but it's like being in the arms of someone
you know has always loved you
and knows just who you are

I used to be from California 
and did as the romans did 
used to stick my head out the window 
in the afternoon listening 
to music my grandparents
taught me how to love 
with a four o' clock sun 
on my skinny legs in the car 
but the sun was never too hot
on the youth of my skin
sticky jacaranda blossoms 
used to stick to the soles
of my shoes
like hope used to
stick to my eyelids
and I dreamt of one day 
becoming a giant 

used to live in California 
and I fed my head 
with books and words 
fed my soul
filled my whole world
with dreams and friends
I loved a boy
as only children do 
we spoke the same language 
read the same books
laughed at the same jokes
but we mostly did a lot of 
passing notes
talking on the phone

I had to leave California 
when I didn't know what leaving meant 
when I thought maybe
nothing would change
the sky changed 
the language changed 
and the people changed 
let go of some dreams 
then drew up new ones 
and I grew to love 
learned to love
a place I hated 
for being so **** far away 
from where I wanted to be
but mostly 
the people I wanted to be with

I still say I grew up in California
I name it home like a distant constellation 
hope I can get on a space craft one day 
land in a place that seems as far as Mars
and ride home in my grandparent's van
to a house I know no longer exists 
have the same golden sun on my face 
that lit up my childhood
hear the music on the radio 
like driving somewhere where you know
you'll be safe and warm

he lives in California
and he still asks me 
when I'll come home and I want to say 
that I'll be at his house in ten minutes
or that he can pick me up at three
but I learned to love him deeply
we measure it in years and miles
and regret no pain

I can't put my life in a jar and label it
from neither here nor there
now I speak no language
now I know no home 
save for this distant star
I continue chasing