In another life, I would have memories of you.
In another life, you weren’t taken away from me.
In another life, I would come to you when I have troubles.
In another life, I would have so many photos with you.
In another life, my future boyfriend would ask you for permission to date me.
But we aren’t in another life
You aren’t here
You will never be here
You’re gone, and you won't be here
not ever.
You left me, but against your will.
I miss you even though I don't know you.
Is it weird to miss someone you don't remember?
To only make someone up through the memories of others?
Black, broken-down shoes, black dress pants that have splashes of paint,
The blue shirt with white stripes going down it
I miss you, and I hope you know that I love you.
In another life, I would know how you smell.
In another life, I would know how to talk to you.
I see you, but I can't make out your face,
Your only expression is the one from the photo
At the beach, finally getting away from work,
Wearing the same cutoff blue jeans
You were next to your brothers
You looked like a little boy
And your smile
Your smile was so bright
My mom took the photo, but you can tell you were smiling because you were happy
She still looks at it, missing you
We all do
In another life, you would be at my graduation.
In another life, you would teach me how to drive.
In another life, you are here.
My name is Daniela Mejia. I am a senior at Cristo Rey Jesuit, and I wrote this poem because my father died a couple of years ago, and I needed a way to express my emotions. I was struggling while I was writing the poem, but it was also very easy to write. I felt like all the words were spilling out of me, and I couldn't stop. I’m glad I didn't. I used imagery and repetition as a literary device. I wanted to put emphasis on the fact that I miss him, and I wanted the reader to imagine what my father’s expression was like. I was trying to grieve the person that I lost a long time ago and never got to meet. While writing this poem, I had the opportunity to read one of my classmates' poems, and reading theirs gave me the strength to write something meaningful and deep. I was also reading We Borrowed Gentleness by J. Estanislao Lopez, and reading “Promise” made me want to write about a family member.