A is for apple.
The one that doesn’t fall far
from the tree.
The one that hit Newton
and helped him discover gravity.
The apple of my eye for all of time.
It’s the first word I learned
and the first picture I drew.
It’s the first food I picked,
eating donuts and drinking cider in the fall,
watching the leaves turn brown.
A is for airplane.
The first time I was too young to remember,
the second I was on my own,
watching skyscrapers become pinpricks
and wishing I had never left.
A is the first letter of the alphabet,
the start of something new.
It’s a way of thinking,
a way of learning.
It is just the beginning.

Please stand by
as I set fire to my past,
because the past is never
how you remember it to be
and the future is never
how you want it to turn out.
I hold our story over an open flame
and hear no objections.
It was never torn
but you scribbled over it
the moment I turned my head.
Friends don’t let friends fall apart
but I watched as you watched me
turn to ash.
One day you’ll come,
searching shelves for our book,
only to find that I’ve disposed of it.
Time turns all things moldy
and the cold, damp space we left it
just drove it to completion faster.
Keep standing by
but you can’t get it back.

At night when I lay in bed
I hope that you wil hold me and whisper
everything will be all right,
everything is all right.
I hope that the child we share
cares less about the meaning of words like
mother, father
but more about
love, justice, equality.
I wish for our daughter to always
have the courage to speak her thoughts and feelings
but also have the wisdom to know when to say them
and how to say them.
I wish for our son to only
raise his fists in congratulations and to take
both winning and defeat graciously.
I want our daughter to know that she can like pink
but she doesn’t have to like pink
and our son to know he can like football
but he doesn’t have to like football.
I want our children to have dreams
and fear to lose them,
to know that the grass is not always green
on the other side,
to know struggles so that they may overcome
but to never know despair.
When you hold me at night
I want to have faith
in us,
in them,
in everyone.

You have been potted in fear
but bloomed in adversity,
spreading seeds of hope.
You cross pollinated with justice
and differentiated
between equity and equality.

We did it pressed between bedsheets
when no one was home,
our hearts increasing our blood flow.
We did it in the sand,
rough and coarse,
unafraid,
matching the timing of the waves, letting the moon
put us in the spotlight.
We did it in the back of your car,
shaking and fumbling, we unbuckled hesitation,
while Destiny’s Child played on the radio.
For a moment, I was nine again,
but your fingernails dragged me back.
The seats smelled like cheap burgers,
and moisture.
For a moment, I wondered if this is something Beyonce would do.
But only for a moment.
We did it without realizing what we were doing,
or how it would change us.
One day, we found ourselves,
different from who we wanted to be.

The wind never blows
in the direction I want it,
so I’ve learned to move forward
by walk backwards,
ignoring almost everything.
The problem is
I can never see where I am
until it’s where I’ve been.
While I’d rather not plan where
I’m going
sometimes I turn around and let
the wind spit dirt in my face.
Because sometimes I can take it.
Because sometimes I can spit it back.

I wanted to be a superhero
so I put on a mask
but I could not see.
How could I encourage others
not to fear
when I could not show my face?

I wanted to be a superhero
so I put on a cape
but tripped up the stairs.
Why should I wear a cape
when I cannot fly?

I wanted to be a superhero
but saw black and white
instead of grey.
What do I do when it doesn’t fit
in one or the other?

I wanted to be a superhero
so I had to learn
what justice meant to me
and what it meant to others,
when to lend a hand
and when to take it back.
I had to learn about myself
before I could understand others.
And learn that a hero
is not always seen as such.