Dear AVW,

I wanted so much for you.

I wanted you to learn how to walk before anything else so that you could always rely on your feet as foundation to hold you up during times of desperation.

I wanted to hear you say “Shishi,” maybe even before “mommy” or “daddy” to prove that you liked me best.

I wanted to see those dark eyes of your mom brighten with your smile that was a little crooked, just like your dad’s.

I wanted to throw you up so high in the air that you learned to trust easily, because i will catch you.

Not to be naive, but to recognize the good in the world.

I wanted to hear whatever crossed your mind because what you have to say

matters more than anything you’d ever hear.

I wanted to have you write

until your hand cramped

because then you would know that you can always turn to a pen and paper when you feel like you have nowhere to turn to.

I wanted to teach you how to do your makeup, not because you need to, but so you can decorate that beautiful face of yours when you wanted.

Because art is expression and, darling, you deserve to express your emotions however you please.

I wanted you to write down everything because you would’ve wrote the sunsets with your words and everyone would want to see life bursting with colors just like you did.

I wanted to teach you that your voice was to be heard and that no means NO.

To always follow through with words that mean more than any slap to the face, but if words weren’t working you would also know that the best places to hit were the nose and groin.

I wanted to hear you tell your mom that she was right about that boy who broke your precious, pure heart into a million little pieces and made you trust people a little less.

She didn’t want to be right, baby girl, she just wanted to protect you from tear stained pillows and your first heartbreak.

I wanted you to know that it’s okay to make mistakes because your mistakes may not define you but they certainly teach you and this world is a place for learning and growing and dammit, you’ll be a teacher to the angry and a preacher to the weak.

I wanted so much for you.

But I’ll never get those because you were taken before your life started.

I promise, A, I will never forget. Walking into that room with my chest heaving and my eyes blurred and seeing you there, laying perfectly, deadly still in your mother’s arms.

My sister’s cheeks hollow with tear-made caverns from the loss of her daughter.

You were a life that didn’t get the opportunity to be lived,

But baby girl, I wanted so much for you.


This poem is about: 
My family


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