I remember the way the ice looked on the street that night.

The dullness of poorly lit lights paired with too much Seagrams 7 made it shine just enough to mesmerize sunken eyes.
Mine.

Just enough to convince you to stay.
Just enough it convinced me to stay.
Again, In the home I couldn't seem to escape.
Didn’t want to escape.

Back inside, dodging objects to stay alive.
Different sizes, different aims.
It was not just a game.

The monster I somehow loved,
dragging me away from all that is and was real.  
I thought he was real.

The same monster who didn't love me,
slipping away,
in that cold house,
on that icy street.

To be in love and to be loved are far from the same,
like you and me.  

Get away,
Before the ice is really the one to blame.

Do you ever wonder what it’s like
To hear the gunshots at night
Rounds and rounds and rounds
You still can’t put it down.

Do you ever wonder what it’s like
To leave a world you’ve always known
To come back with no one home
To be alive but all alone.

Do you ever wonder what it’s like
To continue to pretend that you’re alright
To wonder why you fought that fight
To look at life through bloodshot eyes.  

Do you ever wonder what it’s like
To be a hero in disguise
Because you can’t enjoy this life
Because this world is not the same
Because maybe you are the one to blame.

You are not the one to blame.

Do you ever wonder what it’s like
To sit in guilt and shame
When you were told to play the game
Defending a Country that has no name.

You

Your light blue eyes that resemble your fathers and like mine, never want to rest
Your thick, golden hair that bounces with every move you make
Your imagination that is wilder than any children's book
Your big feet that stomp around the house and chase the monsters away
Your fingers that so often open the refrigerator for that last piece of cheese
Your strong legs that never stop kicking, running, walking, moving
Your arms, the way they sway as you watch your favorite show, the way they hug and wrap around my legs as I drop you off at daycare, not wanting to let go
I don’t want to let go
Your mind, constantly wondering, constantly thinking and scheming, and growing each and every day
Your voice, the most amazing sound I have ever heard, even in the middle of the night when you should be fast asleep “mama” is what I hear and “mama” is what you made me and “mama” I am proud to be.
You, Liam Hugh, Age 2