12–16–2023
Your gaze has rarely left my side.
Aside from the school days and playtime slip-ups,
You have watched me.
When my toes dug holes into my socks,
As I reached to the sky with stretched bones and harder skin,
You watched me.
From blissful ignorance to the introduction of joy, pain, hardship,
As my brain was chipped, dented, and molded by the hands of knowledge,
Your eyes followed me.
Packed in my satchel,
You watched me conjure unicorns, dancers, fairies, astronauts, and kingdoms.
You watched me construct friendships, demolish dreams, and mend engines.
You watched me win and lose races, and make mistakes.
You watched me fall in love.
Spoiled with a relentless audience that filled the seats to all my presentations and every imagination,
I was warped to your design and then to my own mold.
What once was enduring felt like invisible walls of eyes that stared at my every move,
You continued to watch me.
With time, like racing my own shadow,
I found myself in San Francisco.
Convincing the world of a dream that faded faster than the morning mist,
I escaped your judgment, I escaped your protection, I escaped the watch.
It now feels like an irreversible loss that I mourn,
As I realize how temporary your gaze would be.
When I look to the sky,
I miss your eyes in the sea of blue.
When I take a Saturday morning walk,
I search for your gaze in my shadow.
When I hurt, smile, or frown,
I close my eyes to feel yours.
Growing up is meeting brevity and locking arms with loss.
Dance with me, cry with me, laugh with me, run through the meadows and mountains with me.
With selfishness,
I want you to watch my skin fold, my hair transform, my back turn,
As much as I wish to watch time turn back its hand for you.
With the last grasp on ignorance,
I crave your gaze for an eternity.
