First's


Let us not forget the miles it took for us to get here;
how long it took to stop getting cozy with chaos,
to stop planting any seed we caught from the wind
in the garden of our hearts.
And let us not forget the first time you turned off the light
and sat alone in the dark and you felt safe;
because once you’ve survived it’s like having all your first’s again
except no one is there to hold your hand,
so let us not forget the first time you ate after it happened,
I think it was a strawberry Pop-Tart,
the first words that you said,
even if they were as quiet as dove wings, they were words,
the first time you wrote a sentence,
even if you forgot the commas,
then took a shower and brushed your hair.
And let us not base these “first’s” on the fact that
this is the first time you walked to your car and no one hurt you,
but instead it is the first time you got behind the wheel and you drove,
until the sky bled out like a beautiful gunshot wound,
that you decided that this chest should rise and fall over and over again like a sun
because the world is more interesting with you in it;
each act, each first,
is grabbing him by the face and saying,
“You didn't win,”
it is you saying,
“I tell you no,”                   
but this time, he has to listen.

-anna sluder

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