A Letter to the Boy in the Mirror

Dear, Mario Torres Jr.,

       It’s been a while since we’ve acknowledged each other’s presence. I put the “Jr” in your name because I know that without it, it’s the name of the man you are afraid of. I’m sorry he hurt you, I apologize for the injustice you have faced in your lifetime. I know you mourn, and I know you grieve, both, of which, are two different things. Whenever you mourn, you silently cry, you have family and friends to support you; mourning is the visible type of grief. Whenever you grieve, you change your personality, your insomnia comes back to haunt you, and you subtlety push everyone away. You grieve for months. I know you. 

       I remember when Ma told you that the photographs would look nice on your bedroom wall. She told you that it’s important to have pictures and memories of all that you have lost. She told you that she had a wall of memories back home, and that you should have your own. Now there’s more pictures on that wall than that of a bombing memorial. Not all then pictures resemble people, some resemble things, memories, those that you’ll forget but not sooner than you’ll forget your name. I know what you have lost.

       Do you remember why you started writing? Why you began to step out of your shell and become someone amazing? You did it for her. You wanted to create a beautiful path for your gorgeous sister to walk on. Why do you do what you do now? She’s walked the path, one more wondrous than you could have ever have imagined. She walked on the Path of Gold, the one she deserved. A baby girl deserves nothing less. Ma called it the path to heaven, you called it the road to someplace better. You spent months grieving over her. You wondered whether it was better that she didn’t grow up on a world that is so hateful, one where beautiful girls like her die everyday from men like him. The truth is, it’s not better that she didn’t make it, because she could’ve grown up to become someone as amazing as you. The truth is, she became a martyr for your cause, because everyday that she isn’t here, is another day you fight to create a world you would’ve wanted her to be here for. I know why you fight.

       The truth is, I didn’t write this letter to just chat. I wrote this letter to remind you. One day before, you suffered with enough grief in your system, you decided that a life like that wasn’t worth it. You almost lost yourself physically, but after that, you lost your purpose, your fight; you lost yourself. Right now, you’re in the bathroom writing a letter to yourself in hopes of a better future. I can feel you losing your way. I know your losing again. I just wanted to remind you; fight for them, create a better tomorrow for them, turn that wall of ghosts into the hall of heroes and frame yourself up there; Mario, I know you. You need to fight.

Forever There,

Mario Torres Jr.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Our world

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