Cradling me close,

My desperate cries fade,

Letting a song of giggles replace my once detrimental pain.

His sun-kissed arms squeeze me tight,

A fortress of warmth, an abundance of joy,

Causing my worries to feel light. 

My uncle, a child wrapped in adult disguise,

Always prolonging our visits,

Never knowing the heavy weight of grown-up goodbyes. 

Dancing through my childhood, filling each day with laughter,

A sense of love I felt from another,

A love only he seemed to capture.

In a web of memories, he is entwined so tight

Prevalent and playful, 

casting smiles so bright.

Though miles stand between us, 

An unbearable distance,

His love for us carries; I wouldn’t doubt it for an instant.

---

A Hand to Hold

Merrily skipping down the aisles,

every soft slap of my blue sketchers

echoing each shiny tile

encompassing the supermarket.

My mother beside me,

head buried in her grocery list,

the air lingering of sweet familiarity; 

honey and lavender,

Her signature perfume. 

Eyes wandering, my gaze shifts

To a kaleidoscope of various colors, fabrics, and patterns.

drawing me near, fleeting from familiarity. 

Losing myself in racks of women's apparel,

The weight of my dreams, too heavy for my small frame. 

Time slipping away, panic seeps in,

Interrupting my fantasy of the life I haven’t grown into.

Breath becoming quicker, eyes searching through a sea of strangers,

 to meet the only other pair I know.

I see her then- 

A woman with springing coils from her head.

I grasp her hand only to be met with a foreign cold. 

As her surprise reflects mine, we share a moment of stillness.

The naive moment shaped my understanding of sincerity.

In the echo of confusion and uncertainty, look deeper.

Expose the facade that is put up by so many and

Unveil the mask that one often hides behind. 

---

Leftovers

I felt a part of me walk out the door with him that day,

The zipping sound of luggage, slowly fading into a still silence.

I was 14, bearing a weight in my chest

Gazing through the water enveloping my eyes, thick with unshed tears. 

My heart shattering like glass within me. 

“What if he forgets me?” 

The whisper in my head echoing. 

The only person who shared my mornings;

the same breakfasts, the same Christmas trees.

Now, he’s walking out the door, unsure of his return.

A young memory suddenly crowds my mind. 

Red and blue legos parading the carpet as we bicker over things of frivolity. 

Frame by frame, young memories of the past flash by my eyes.

But the door slams shut, with a snap back into reality. 

We are no longer 5 and 6 years old,

The breakfast on the table, growing cold

half-eaten, 

as it will now forever remain. 

If only time could freeze

eternally.