'I am' Poem

When my teachers want to celebrate diversity they try to get us to write 'I am' and 'Where I'm From' poems. This is not something I oppose, but something is lost in the prompting. For them I write the easy apple cider explanations. For you? Here is my 'I am' poem: 

Do you remember the day...

...in kindergarten when we hiked all the way up to the lookout, and went swimming in the brook before it had e coli?

...in second grade when we made towers, listened to Harry Potter, and reenacted revolution after fantastical revolution?

...in fourth grade when we played at greek gods and I fell in love for the first time?

No.

It was before that, I think

When you were singing that song and running up the side

and I never quite knew how it ended. 

There was that girl in running club in fourth grade, the one with the short hair that I thought was so cool?

I never talked to her.

And then 

it was the idea of what we could be.

I won't lie.

I was always in love with an idea.

That's the only way I know how to live:

Playing wolves on the ice piles.

And then

letters and letters

and miles and the quiet woods

drowning me, because how could I know if I'd ever see you again.

And 'you' always changes,

but I never do.

In my jewelry box I have a stone he threw into my cup at a lemonade stand, a green leaf-gem to remind me of a friend I did not know how to help, and a perfect Totoro acorn from a perfect fall day...

...a kiss at the top of a ski jump,

and letters.

So many letters

from all the girls I've ever loved.

Letters from all the times some impossible force of gravity

crumpled me into a ball on my shower floor. 

Letters from the hope 

that I always seem to have:

that I can fix this world with words. 

And I could too,

until I met you.

No.

Until I met myself.

And now I learn to write again.

Who am I?

I am that belief

that I will always learn to write again.