His heart divided. . .

Will remain so.
He will never feel home
or whole because you
could not love me.
There will be no us.
Just he and I and you and him.
When they draw houses
knee to knee at small tables
crayons precariously balanced
with the just so color,
he will draw two.
In one door there will
be me and in the other there
will be you and someone
who isn't quite home either.
There will be two of everything
from beds to rules, he will
have to think differently
in both places; watching
every word or gesture because
he will not break our hearts.
Yet, I smile sadly as he
sleeps because we have
broken his before its beat
fierce as he plays knew
what love or seperation meant.
I do not blame us, or you
but simply know that life
is full of dissappointments.
I would have only wished
that his childhood like mine
had been uninteruppted
by complicated concepts.
You say he will be fine,
that you survived your
divided heart, but I know
like I knew the night
you lay beside me choking
on your emotions that
though you wished your
heart to never feel the ache
you were as lost as he will be.
He will look for a place to
finally belong; a place to
sleep and wake up without
wondering who will hold him.
He stirs and falls again
into whatever dreams that
little boys dream and I
like a ghost or gaurdian
stand wishing a candle might
lessen his dark night to come.