FOR SAM. A BOY. A Poem By Inny Taylor

FOR SAM. A BOY.
By Inny Taylor

Struggling,
Tired,
That overwhelming feeling of,
If then wasn’t the right time,
Maybe Now is the right time,
To give up
And give in to
Stress,
Sickness,
Winter blues–
Those “I Owe Yous.”,
Piling up,
The bank,
The school left unfinished,
That unadvoidable medical bill–
Upcoming “I Owe Yous.”
Oh hopefully they will cease to exist;
Eventually.
Well finally,
In the midst of it all
Came you.
An angel dressed as a man.
Made of flesh
Yet your metaphorical wings
Easily flow out
From underneath your flannel.
And heaven’s sound
Floating in your mumbled voice;
That voice we both share.

You remind me of my brothers,
Who told me I was strong,
Too strong to let a bad day break me.
You remind me of my sister,
With her little girl on the way,
Who told me I was beautiful,
Too beautiful to let grey days make me forget about the sun.
You remind me of my father,
Who sings to my sick mother
While holding her fragile writer’s hand,
Who told me I was different,
Too different to let normalcy influence what I love in the abstract.
You remind me of my mother,
Who bought me my first pair of ballet shoes,
Who told me I was special,
Too special to let anyone build me into what’s not.

And you remind me of,
Mia and Peter,
And their sweet barking Poppy,
Making dinner in our loft,
Before we all moved to separate havens,
Watching old seasons of television shows.
You remind me of Deanna,
Who makes music come to life,
The souls of
And in my feet,
Fly.
You remind me of David and Kyle,
And their grizzly little Claude.
You remind me of Dana,
Macey,
Angela, Bora, Seth,
Raul,
And every single best friend
Who listens to me ramble
About new things,
Things,
Or things I said before–
Maybe many times before.
You remind me of Sigi,
A girl in Berlin,
And although we have never met in person,
She believes in the fantasy
That comes woven from my fingers.
And Chad,
You remind me of Chad,
A man in Brooklyn,
Who lets me spontaneously record the history of artists
Who make love to their work.

That somehow here I am,
Scared to see tomorrow
Or maybe,
Just what it will bring
And here you are,
Holding me
When I cry.
I cried the very first time we met.
You held me above the sidewalk
As I vomited,
Twice.
You held me,
Above the bathroom sink
As I brushed my tainted teeth.
I drank too much;
Wine.
You didn’t mind;
You cared for me.
I am a mess,
A mess of a being
Built to breathe.
But you never,
Even in a fleeting moment,
Chastised me,
Ran the opposite way,
Or didn´t show up,
The next day
And then days,
And days again,
After that day.
You are the sweetest of men
That walk this planet.

Lunch dates at work,
Letting me tell you
When and where–
And how,
Sometimes everything in my life hurts.
Walking blissfully,
Romantically,
Across the bridge
And to the train,
Telling me,
“You look Good.”
When I don’t feel that way–
And talking on the phone
For an hour,
The shortest hour.
Saying,
“It all will be okay.”
Those talks of yours,
I guess of ours,
So refreshing.

For you Sam,
I am but a girl
Who writes these words,
To piece together notes
For you Sam,
To know.
And with you Sam,
My everything is all I can
And will ever be,
Young,
And learning,
That with you,
That too,
Is all you can
And will ever be.
Amongst pain,
There will always come
An aspirin in the shape of what’s unseen.
Your presence,
Where people,
Aren’t made like you anymore,
I owe you
A memory bank,
Full of happiness,
Untainted.
And though
I have known you for a fleeting moment,
You’ve been my friend forever.
Everything is okay;
A holiday that last forever.
If it’s only for a second,
You were a beacon of time standing still.