HE’S HIM

HE'S HIM

July 15, 2025

I call him my boy.  
My son.  

That’s true.  
But it’s not all of him.  

He bangs the floor.  
Smashes toys.  
Puts everything in his mouth.  
Eats like hunger is part of the plan.
He likes airplanes.

Someone says,  
“Boys are like that.”  

No.  
He’s like that.  

Not because he’s a boy.  
Because he’s himself.  

A sound surprises him.  
He tastes to understand.  
He keeps rhythm because it’s steady.  
He listens when the ground answers back.  

I’m not here to make it boyish.  
I’m here to keep him out of boxes.  

He’s becoming.  
Loud. Gentle.  
Curious. Serious.  
Precise. Taste tester.  
Quiet, too.  

He’s him.  
Only him.