Eventide

Brother Part One: Perfecting Death

Brother Part One: Perfecting Death

I first encountered death when it took the form of a bird,

catching my eye from within tall grass.

Summer had settled on my shoulders,

warm wind coaxing me out into a farmer's field.

I spent all my energy trying to revive that bird.

After we buried her, shovelling dirt over her ruby breast,

I watered her for a week,

probably drowning her in tears and tap water.

I expected her to grow, to bloom.

A year later I returned, hope still nestled in my chest,

only to dig up a fragile, hollow skeleton.

Death met my brother with a blue jay, a black crown that broke

when it hit our grandmother's window.

He looked at me with confusion.

It was obviously a real bird,

but there was no breath in its breast,

its wings were stiff.

He could not understand.

Where I had had hope, my brother had grief.

We wallowed in our stubborn nature,

though instead of watering the bird,

he became it.

For days we acted out the burial,

I dragging him across our living room floor,

burying him in a snowy duvet meant for comfort and warmth.

I will always remember what he looked like,

pretending to be dead.

Because he is younger than me,

my brother will always hate me just a little bit.

He will always be compared to me,

what I have done and I what I will do,

the marks I get and he will always

hate me just a little.

There will always be that teacher who says

"I hope you're like your sister!",

and his heart will drop because in HIS eyes

I am perfect, I am the good daughter

and the big sister

and I will always be 650 steps ahead of him,

always, always, always,

and he will scream over and over and over

stop PATRONIZING me,

stop being SUPERIOR,

and I want to tell him it's not true, I'm not

Superior or perfect.

He is so smart, and he can tell those teacher's so

because FUCK, brother you are smart as

Hell and Hawking

And I know there will always be a part of you that hates me,

and there will always be a part of me that wants to fail

just for you,

to give you a paper with and F on it

so you can hang it by the A's

you never think are as important as mine

because they drown in UNSATISFACTORY's,

so you will know there is no part of me ever,

that hates you.