Today is the anniversary
Of my non-existence.

I yearn today
for the life I should have had,
Though some days I forget.

I forget who I am

And why I was stolen.

Other days I laugh
At the absurdity of their
Machiavellian natures.

Self-aggrandizing,
Bored to treachery.

Tears? Those are mine.

At least they were
At one time,
Back when I could cry –

When I thought tears were of any use at all.

Most days, though,
I yearn for what exists:
The life I’ve given to this world,

And the love I have, never ending, to give.

Some days I think
“I love”,
Then I wonder what,
Exactly,
Is it that I love?

I don’t know, really.
I just love.

I love.

I am love.

My name is Love,

Or so I was told
Once,
By a man unseen by most.

“Tell them your name is love,” he smiled.

Oh what a prankster is my father
Who gave me life
So that I could love.