Get lost!
Plunge into the cool waters of the unknown,
Breathe in its main element, adventure!
Fight fear!
Battle beasts!
Challenge chances!
Cultivate curiosity!

Get lost!
When you are navigating through
A remote road,
Alien alley,
Or secret sidewalk,
Soak your soul,
Let it dry
…slow
Do not wring the thrill out.

Get lost!
Everywhere,
Absolutely,
Is a strange somewhere and an exotic elsewhere.

If ever you forget me,
try searching the folds of your skin
the secret space that bends to form your elbows
the nook underneath your collarbones
because I'm almost certain
that I've dropped a postcard or two
with riddles that lead to
your memory of me.

If you ever forget me,
drift off to sleep.
sleep deep.
I'll be the one in your dream
who is cheering the loudest in the crowd
as you spin and do backflips on an elephant's trunk.
I'll be the stone you trip on
the one that causes you to fall down a mountain
but I'll also be the eagle that saves you, and
we'll soar.
we'll soar.

Just
in case you forget me,
just
play songs from the winter birdhouse
and maybe the shaky voices and
dusty guitars will help you remember.
I told you once upon a December's eve
that no one can sing
they can only cry beautifully and
the best singers are those who weep the loveliest
so maybe a playlist
filled with warm nutmeg kisses
will help you remember.

If that still doesn't work,
go back to every time you bled
replay every tear, pause at every clenched fist
every second you were on your knees
but didn't see me standing beside you
behind you
whispering prayers
trying to plant seeds
you never heard me
but the entire time my being was screaming
I'm here

Only when and only if
you forget me,
I hope you'll at least try
to close your eyes
and see the treasure map I tattooed on your eyelids
the one where x marks the spot
where we cut paper figures
by your favorite river
next to the little meadow with
tiny spring flowers
but if that doesn't work either
lie awake at night
search your heart and
if you aren't able to see
my fingerprints on your veins
or my toes peeping out from your
heart's deepest chambers,
it's okay.
Because even if you forget me
over
and over
and over again
I'll always just be here
wishing I never had to
write a poem about someone
you'll never forget
when they've already forgotten you.

It was once
A never-ending-everlasting
forever-staying-never-breaking
never-sna­pping-never-changing
thick as maple syrup fresh from the tree
long enough to tie up the galaxies together
TWICE
this was the hope I had.

I threw it around you
the seventh time we met,
and I tied one end to your left ankle
and the other end to the space in my heart that I had
saved just for you
I didn't know I was saving it for you.

Because I had no idea
that I would end up caring this much.
That I would write poems about you until three in the morning
and turn those poems into songs
only to forget the melody.

That you would be the reason
for my curled up legs sitting in the corner
and the floor a sea.
My floor is still a sea.

And no one warned me
that you would be the root of this
black tree that is thriving inside my head
despite the dull axe that thumps all day long
yet produces
only bruises
no scratches
I have enough of those,
because apparently the consequence of love
is pain.

And I know a lot about pain.
My hands will be red and blistered for an eternity
from the rope burns you gave me, because
every time you strayed,
I would tug
and then you'd stay.
But your pulls got harder
and your left ankle stronger...
so did mine.
I learned to stop picking at fresh wounds
to let them callous instead
my hands are as thick as a bear
and I've got you to thank for that.

I thought
that you would never stray again
after that nasty big cut you got on your forehead
from wandering too far
you crept up the edge of the cliff
inch by inch
but you crept too far.
You returned with that cut and
swore you'd stay yet
now your wound is reopening
and your big toes are already off the cliff
and this rope I tied around you
this once massive rope
this once massive hope
is now
a stringy little thread.

My hands are shaking and
my wrists are bleeding
but I'm still holding on.
Because my real hope
is anchored to something
much stronger than the both of us.

I hate buying milk.
I always think about
where I’ll be when it reaches
its expiration date,
and how you still
won’t be there with me.

Look at the stars.
See how they never cease to
glow even on the darkest nights.

Be like those stars, child.

Look at the moon.
See how though it has no
light of its own it
refuses to leave you without bringing you some
light in the dark.

Be like the moon, child.
But most of all,

May you have the joy of your mother, for
her smile can light up a million black suns
and her laugh
can warm
even the coldest heart.

May you have her loathing for evil and
despise injustice like she does.
I hope you'll take up a sword and
fight for the truth alongside her, for
she fears no one
except
the only One who should be feared.

May you have the strength of your father
and walk with integrity like he does.
May you have his humble spirit,
his patient heart,
and his strong arm.

May you aim for excellence,
and shoot your arrows
straight and true.
I hope you learn to walk on waters
with a faith like your father's, and never
ever
look at
the threatening waves.

Look at the sky, child.
No, higher
       higher
       higher
because more than any other
I pray that you'll be


just like your Father.