Sometimes the need,
the urge,
to write is overwhelming,
but the words won't flow.

The river is dammed
and one day it may burst.
Will you be there
to witness it?

A month ago today
I was told I'd need surgery.
A month later
I feel fine.

A month later
it doesn't even feel like a month, but more like a lifetime.  
I've experienced things I never thought I would.
I sit back and think of how amazing it all is.

They said it would take four weeks to recover, but that happened long before.

As dreams of pink elephants ran through my head, you held me without my asking.  But in those moments that you caressed my hands, I was awake enough to know.  I felt the soft kisses you placed in my hair and on my arms.  You put up with the constant moving while I slept, keeping comforting arms around my body.  I didn't ask for the kindness, but you didn't need my permission anyway.  The elephants paraded on, singing their song, and I dozed comfortably in the well needed warmth of your arms.

These things we wear,
sometimes feel like contraptions.
Restricting freedom but
providing protection.
So many ways and styles,
the possibilities are endless.
Through heat and cold
always an accessory,
even if they are not on our feet.
They go everywhere with us,
seeing even what we do not.

There they stand
in groups of twos or threes,
waiting for a hand
by the trees.
They are not exact,
but still the same.
Hopefully things will stay intact,
never being dead or lame.
Who do they wait for?
Maybe some shall see.
Another kind or
maybe a girl set free
from her dungeon down the hall,
into his arms she will fall.