I see a lot of myself in my brother.
I know the thinness that hunches his shoulders.
His emotional emotionless undertone in which he speaks.
His past is my past, our demons must be kin and
I’m afraid.
I could show him a light, new,
but what if he can’t see it,
Could I live alive while he buries himself in burden.
I have one demon left.
It’s small,
but it’s horns are sharper.
