Mother

The name we call first,
warmth served to what I found
the most sincerely flawed abundance
that we could only ask for
no more but your unconditional love
in motherhood.

Too Soon

“I believe in love. Even if you say
so otherwise.” You’re a skeptic though and I know.
“People simply give up too soon
to figure it out.” The whole basic algorithm we’ve been
asking for is a simple equation after all.
You keep persisting.

Rescue

I see it everywhere, the colloquial equivalent
Of the most ambitious sort.
“I’m most afraid,
The world is a lonely sport.”
Judging whether we ought to be rescued, I can’t help
Without being wrought
Catatonic by my own muse, knowing we had
Already known this in life and strive yet
Against the ubiquity of being alone.

Remember

Letting go of your hand, I felt fear
In case you would forget me, long after I
Had already begun to move on.
“Why do you think we want to be
Remembered?” You asked once before.
I stopped making believe
Of our fake dialogues since
I can remember.

The Return

I spoke too soon when I
Called it a backslide,
In case you were worried
I realized what this has been.
“I’ve always been here.” You simply
Didn’t see it
So don’t be surprised by the
Return
Of who we are.

Reasons to

I hadn’t thought to ask
Forgotten really, the reason
Why.
“Where have we been all along?”
It seemed silly
When we had all the reasons to
Lie.

A Choice

“Choose wisely,
Would you have your words be
Brave or sincere, since you can’t
Have both so long as
Pride and your desire are in
Play.” I pondered in the split
Second before replying
And realized this has always been
A choice
All along.

A Gift

I want to ask but quite sure nobody knows,
What the silver lining is between beguiled oblivion and the odd sentiment
of love.
Is it between kindness?
Between the sheets of our conscience or even
The braided steel of our pride that makes it so
Compelling to reject ourselves from what we know
Is best; the question is, why
Do we all agree on a universal sage of unabridged pacifism
Yet the simple gift to be hurt
In honest truth, is felt
With no less integrity of our most sincere reflections
To show our jarring insecurities, is a bravery
Shunned for bravado,
Better coined for low key insanity, you named it
Only better known for what most placates me
And that was to give you the best
As a gift

 

Hold Still

“Do you believe in kindness?”
It’s hard to say when you’re trying to protect,
Kindness, “It’s not worth it,” they tell you, you say so too
“Maybe so,” yet you secretly hold still
To the margin of being kind, what is it worth
Winning for the sake of appearances, we must win
With negligence and ignorance and fearful reproach
For whom and what we had believed in, do you still hold to
What may be a blind man’s patch
Do you believe in kindness?