We were infants
Trying to stand
Trying to talk
Seeing the world for the first time.
Six months and we grew
Learning, discovering
Looking for purpose
But still stuck in our minds.
One year and we were children
Believing we knew
All there was to know
But still filled with wonder.
Finding the first sadness
Peace in companionship
Hope for the future
And somehow life inbetween.
Two years and we were adults
Each others' first
"Happy," used so often
"Love," thrown back and forth.
In the cracks, underneath
Darkness spilling
Pain and confusion
Joining but tearing.
Three years and we were dead
Hope gone, innocence lost
Liquid life had taken ours
And pain was all it left.

But I am not
I live. And I realize that
Love was something you never gave,
There was no we, only me
And we did not live, or love.
Rather, I did.
I do.