this poem is for my nine year old sister
who pretends to believe in the tooth fairy
this poem is for her narrowed eyes as she wonders
why the tooth fairy forgot to come
when she lost a tooth
but didn’t tell anyone
her eyes test me
i tell her,
when you’re older,
the tooth fairy doesn’t consider you a priority.
for my nine year old sister
who screams with joy when she finds a note
under her pillow
as if the paper still sparkles with fairy magic
as if she holds a relic
a rarity, something to be held close
and cherished.
her smile filled with doorways
this poem is for eight year old me,
hands clenched over stubborn ears
singing loudly,
when my older cousin insisted that
the tooth fairy
didn’t exist.
when i confronted my parents about the spare card from the tooth fairy
found in the hallway before their bedroom
she must have dropped it,
they told me
i said i believed them
humans pretend to believe in all sorts of thing
we pretend for our parents
god
we pretend for our children
the american dream
we pretend for ourselves
life has meaning
some beliefs we pretend to believe
for so long,
they become woven into us,
the stitches no longer foreign
they die with us:
belief in god
in karma
in heaven and hell
pretending to believe is a uniquely human phenomena
no other creature would choose to live in the gray,
the gorgeous glow
of half stirred belief,
of the magic
of the cloth tied determinedly over open eyes
when we go past survival, when the world is no longer
blood, and pain and pulling in your next breath,
we notice
more
we notice the sun rise
the rains fall
the earth scorched in blues, and reds, and pinks,
and purples
we pretend to believe in gods
in a human like charioteer of the skies
that they too
the beyond belief
omnipresent
omnipotent
fight, and love and lose like mortals
like us they are flawed
like us they are perfect
rose tinted glasses,
we believe in magic
can’t magic explains sunsets better than smog particles
can’t magic explain the stars, punctures in a midnight blanket
better than scientists in lab coats
can’t magic explain human life, the gasping cry, eyes opening for the first time,
better than biology
we draw gods,
because the gods are ours to draw
they are ours to believe in,
to shield ourselves with
belief is a parent, a guardian
when the world is
too dark to see through
can i pretend to believe in the
absoluteness of human goodness
that humanity travels,
always,
in an upwards trajectory
can i pretend to believe that life
contains purpose as well as meaning?
pretend to believe that
climate change
is so far off
that it will never affect me?
can i pretend to believe
that all will end up well?
that every human has a happy home,
a well-fed stomach
can i pretend to believe that people
don’t die before their time
that death will not strike my household
that my health with hold
that
everything
will go according to plan
humans believe we can will
anything
into existence
and i love us for it
we pretend to believe, because
true belief and disbelief seem equally
far away
both feel like
free float
free fall
i can’t throw
myself
into them
viscosity of dreams
so can’t we pretend to believe
a bit longer?
it is the marker of the receding tides
of childhood,
when we forget to pretend
any longer,
when we forget to check
for a note beneath the pillow.
this poem is about all the things we believe in,
and don’t believe in,
or pretend to believe in.
but this poem...
this poem is for my nine year old sister.
for the day when she forgets to believe in the tooth fairy…
for the day when we forget to expect her to
for the day she is the one crawling into her child’s bedroom,
tucking something under their pillow.
for the day, she hears their scream of joy,
as they too
discover the magic.