Not a God

I remember
Looking up at a forest of legs
With the twinkle of Christmas lights
Shining through and thinking
We all look alike

I remember
The weight of my sister’s body
Against my hands as she
Flew in metal that croaked
At every pass

I remember
My hand lost within yours
The calluses chewing and
Swallowing me as I stood
Beneath your eclipse

I remember
Seeing you with my uncles
And strutting, crowing
That my dad's smarter
And more handsome

I remember
The breathless vaccuum that
Descended on me
When your face clouded
With disappointment

I remember
Standing in front of the
Office wall seeing your
Many accomplishments
And feeling pathetic

I remember
The surge of madness
That always followed
When I did something right
As rare as it was

I remember
The pride you took
In all that you did
And the fear that lurked hidden
In your eyes

I remember
Understanding that you are
Just as broken as I am
And knowing our madness
Kept us separate

I remember
Mourning for my daddy that was
The tawny giant who swung me
Through the wide world
He is gone

I remember
Hating myself
My body, my soul
And feeling so alone
And so ugly

I remember
The day I understood
I will always be this way
I will never wake
And be different

I remember
My first thought when
The planes hit in New York
Was to call home, but I didn’t
Because you might answer

I remember
Looking at you and finally
Realizing I don’t need you
And understanding
That it’s okay

I remember
The pain in your face
When you thought of how
You were to me
And I break again

I remember
The day I finally
Realized that you
Were a man, and
Not a god

And I remember
Feeling relieved because
If god is as crazy as I am
It's very disappointing
But it explains a lot

I remember
The day I stood
Under darkening skies
And knew
You are mortal

I've forgotten
The exact day and time
When I first loved you
But I remember
When I realized it was okay