Name

I wish I could put a name to what I feel.

It is love, but not the one that needs you by flesh.

It is need, but not the one that clings and is chaotic.

It is peace, that feeling you bring to me every time.

It is madness, the twinkle in your eyes, and that smile.

It is friendship, beyond ages, that could describe. 

It is laughter, that surrounds me all the time.

It is warmth, like a blanket that I could shroud myself in.

It is hope, that I could long and look forward to.

I wish I could put a name to what I feel. 

And call you only by that name in the lives to come.

The Mother's Day Battle

When that first cry came out, 

What did you do, I wonder

Did you eagerly look down to see,

Or did you turn away and ignore?

Was it not pain, to bring me here,

Did you not carry me through,

Was letting go so easy,

Or was it just plain old fear?

A small bundle of blood and liquid,

With little hands and feet,

I too would have wanted that warmth,

That boys and girls who had it all, 

When they were born.

Now, I really do wonder,

Did you eagerly look down?

Did you shed a tear?

Or turned away your head,

Like what came was never yours.

Happy Mother's Day, Mommy dearest,

Just letting you know,

I am the brave child who is special,

For I fought this battle on my own,

Without the sweetness of your milk,

Or the caress of your warmth,

I am proud, for the battle was mine,

Mine alone, and never yours.

This Love Thing

This love thing, 

I realize now, 

is not just a rose, red and hot.

It has thorns, and it wilts, 

In time, and in sun.

Tomorrow, you water it, 

Feed it with care, 

And it blooms, 

In time, and in sun.

To a Brother's Loss

He died. 

A memory now. 

Was he ever there?

No. 

But I do feel tired. Forlorn.

A small, sad tear, slowly escaped the eye.

A forceful gulp went down the throat.

The heart stops,

and hands freeze.

A memory, so soon.

I didn't know.

No one told me.

He died.

I hugged the wet pillow, 

And thought of him, 

As a memory.

Strangers on a Bed

We sleep like strangers.

Our backs facing each other.

Never searching for a warm spot.

As night spreads out in darkness, 

I hug your back tight...

Counting your heartbeats, 

and the snores that escape...

My nightmares return, 

And demons make love, 

And I hug them too...

Two of Us

There really is two of us, 

one who knows, 

breathes and lives within a body. 

The other, 

who dreams, 

wanders off with a favorite word, 

a sweet scent,

an act of love, 

and buttery morsel of food.

Not afraid, 

passionate and unbeaten, 

willing to try, 

and not to escape.

And the other, 

quiet and measured, 

scared and scarred, 

weak and mellow.

I love the second one, who do you?