I make bad choices
that occupy my mind momentarily.
Too bad I know I can't
forget the things that haunt my consciousness.

The words they said,
and things they accused me of
haunt my soul,
as if to remind me of something I never became.

He kisses me with kindness,
and pulls me close so gently,
that I feel his touch
like the earth feels the careless caress of the breeze.

I'm sorry that I love him,
and that I'll never come back to you;
but you, mother, must learn
to be happy for someone who has long since lost the interest to serve you.

The words begin to leave me,
and thoughts begin to grow,
but in such a manner that I shall
never wish upon myself or others.

You see, I tell my story in my touch,
that he says is so gentle.
I told him that to touch so gently,
one must know the pain of not being cared for at all.

You see mother, this is my pain
Never once having the thing I wanted most.
I'm not like many children,
I've spent my time alone.
Hoping that I soon will get a mother of my own.