Motherless Child

Motherless Child In her breathless eyes of teary blue I gently gasped in and out of view. Born out of pain into an empty room, torn in vain from a barren womb. My infant heart had come to rest upon the heaving of her breast. No words needed, none were spoken, in silent nurture bonds were broken. A cold embrace on placid skin, I felt her stillness deep within. She could not comfort my listless limbs but sighed instead as her lustre dimmed. I was vulnerable in her grieving eyes, as weakness strengthened her despise. "I live, I love, I cry, I bleed!" yet tainted by unhindered need. Lifeless as a brief encounter, as the realisation of life without her. I grew up with the heart to endure the inadequacy of being immature. And every love I chanced upon I compared to her, a love now gone. I have become emotionally weak, the bittersweet irony of the strength I seek. Perhaps the wounds were in my mind, defined by the scars that I hide behind. Now isolation has taken its toll, in my comfort zone out of control. I'm running free, I'm running wild, chasing love like a motherless child.