Hey Dad, do you Remember, Me...?
Hey, dad!
Do you remember me...?
I remember,
early morning polaroids,
bleary-eyed and banned
from affection
or how about those
promises, empty
and cries longing
inside the turtle’s chest
where I kept my childhood,
safe and secure
or when I climbed up
hidden ledges in the closet
to feel snug,
wiping sadness from the walls.
The only place-
I could etch my name
and be seen in the world,
in the wood,
holding the house together.
Do you remember me, dad...?
How I’d put my dreams,
in a little green box
by night and whisper
min to the clouds,
everything
because the night,
was so silent
and I was so sure,
I would be heard.
Do you remember, dad…?
Those long days in puddles,
on the streets at Ridgewood
blue, pink, and yellow chalk
on the ground,
on my fingertips.
How I'd ride down the big hill
for mom’s tobacco and milk
and maybe,
even steal a pie or two.
Do you remember, dad?
those bad dreams
in waiting, for you,
in waiting for my brothers,
for family time because
"little girls could get lost."
in waiting...
for your voice,
on the other end
in waiting...
by the door,
by the window,
outside,
looking, waiting...
in fears,
in hoping, in waiting...
and waiting..
in waiting for you, dad
to remember
for you, I’m waiting...
through passing days...
in waiting...
through years gone fast
waiting...
I’m still waiting..
You see, I remember, dad.
I remember it all-
- Tiny Poet, 2017
Do you remember me...?
I remember,
early morning polaroids,
bleary-eyed and banned
from affection
or how about those
promises, empty
and cries longing
inside the turtle’s chest
where I kept my childhood,
safe and secure
or when I climbed up
hidden ledges in the closet
to feel snug,
wiping sadness from the walls.
The only place-
I could etch my name
and be seen in the world,
in the wood,
holding the house together.
Do you remember me, dad...?
How I’d put my dreams,
in a little green box
by night and whisper
min to the clouds,
everything
because the night,
was so silent
and I was so sure,
I would be heard.
Do you remember, dad…?
Those long days in puddles,
on the streets at Ridgewood
blue, pink, and yellow chalk
on the ground,
on my fingertips.
How I'd ride down the big hill
for mom’s tobacco and milk
and maybe,
even steal a pie or two.
Do you remember, dad?
those bad dreams
in waiting, for you,
in waiting for my brothers,
for family time because
"little girls could get lost."
in waiting...
for your voice,
on the other end
in waiting...
by the door,
by the window,
outside,
looking, waiting...
in fears,
in hoping, in waiting...
and waiting..
in waiting for you, dad
to remember
for you, I’m waiting...
through passing days...
in waiting...
through years gone fast
waiting...
I’m still waiting..
You see, I remember, dad.
I remember it all-
- Tiny Poet, 2017
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