Sunday, April 11, 2010

We Are

I am made of lost memories, of last breaths, of first cries

I am the stillness of laying awake, listening for a call that I will never hear again.

I am a legacy formed from the word Fight

I am fulfilled by purpose, I am without purpose

I am saved from the beautiful pain of hundreds of needles passing through skin

until the picture becomes clear

I live within the smell of witch hazel and of ink

I am his sister

I am his wife

I am her daughter

I am lost within life’s roles

like being in a house of mirrors… I can’t find my face

I am forever striving to be resilient… whole

I am forgotten then remembered when it’s too late

I am not yet who I will be tomorrow

He is stubborn, angry….typical

He is “Chubby” and “Papacito”

He is too young to remember

too young to matter, too young to care

He’s broken 10 goldfish, countless hearts, my dining room chair

He’s lost every grandparent, a dad, my Metalica CD

He’s taken candy from stores, bikes from open garages, my heart’s rhythm

He’s thrown away hours online, his first pair of glasses, my advice

He is my little brother in the middle of the night with pinches and wet willies

He is my big brother when he comforts, consoles and cares for me

He is amazing, endearing and infuriating

He is two, ten and 16

all in one

He is not yet strong enough to carry us

He will not let us fall

He is the man of the house… too soon

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