To My Dad

Hello magical people :)

I thought about it and decided I might as well post the other slam poem I wrote about my Dad, or Papi, as I call him.

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To My Dad

When I was little, my dad used to sprinkle fairy dust over my pillow because he said it would keep the nightmares away.

He said I had the power to turn the lights on even when they were off.

“Papi,” I’d say, “I don’t have special powers. Where can I find the ability to switch off everything that scares me and how do I keep it from consuming me?”

He told me how my name was magical—Maya means magical—and how all that power comes from an ancient magic called believing in yourself.

Papi, all throughout elementary school, you scribbled notes into my napkins, folded them like treasure maps before placing them carefully into my oversized purple lunchbox, so everyday at lunch, I was reminded of your voice.

Papi, I’m sorry I asked you to stop leaving notes in my lunchbox.

I’m sorry I called it lame.

In middle school, you watched me shrink from extrovert to introvert and yet you never ceased to beam whenever I stood up on stage.

When I messed up a line, you’d hug me and tell me how well I’d performed.

You endured every soap opera moment with godlike patience, letting me use your t-shirts as tissues.

When I failed my first test, you didn’t yell, you just told me to do my best the next time.

When I told you how much I hated myself, you didn’t freak out and send me to a mental hospital.

When I told you I might be bent, you didn’t argue and let it be.

When I told you I needed you, you didn’t leave.

Papi, I’m sorry. I took you for granted.

Papi, thank you.

Thank you for kissing every scrape, for drying every tear, for making every joke, for cooking every meal, for every attempt at braiding my hair, for accepting the fact that I am not an athlete.

I repeat—I am NOT an athlete.

Papi, I’m sorry I didn’t train harder.

I’m sorry I’m not as strong as you said I was.

I’m sorry I threw out the napkins; I’m sorry I pushed you away; for thinking I was too cool and for letting the magic fade.

You kept saying I should believe in myself and

Papi, I’m trying,

But I don’t know if we have any fairy dust left and I’ve already swiped all the memories from my pillow—not a single one is magical—

And I don’t know how long it’ll be till the sun comes up in the morning, but

Papi, I miss you.

You asked me what I wanted for Christmas and God, what I’d give to have some of those magical powers, but I think I’ll just be wanting a nightlight instead.

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And there you have it folks. I have to say this piece holds a very special place in my heart, just as Papi does, and I thought it would be nice to share it with you all :)

I hope you've all had a fantabulous day!!!

Hasta la próxima,

Much love xoxo

Maya