Brother Part Two: holes
Have you seen my brother?
My home is full of holes, and I think he may have gone through one.
There is a bird nesting in one, under my floors,
and I want to tell her it's not safe,
to fly away while she still can.
My brother leaks poison,
seeping through our shared wall, getting under my skin.
At night, I hear him hitting his walls
because he can't hit himself anymore,
now that everything hurts.
In dark halls,
after our parents have given up for the night,
he turns to me and says –
"nobody likes you."
And I can't believe he would take the insecurities I entrusted him with
and turn them into ammunition.
Today, in the blaze of our personal war,
he jabbed his fingers in the shape of a gun
into my stomach.
It hurt so much more than if he'd actually shot me.
Last week he sexually harassed a fifteen year old girl.
I feel as if I have failed,
Since as a big sister I always tried to teach him
how to treat a girl.
At age five,
he said he could never hit a girl,
because it would be like hitting me,
our mother,
and now he has done all both.
I feel as if I have failed him somehow,
as if I have failed at being a big sister,
something that I have almost always been.
When he scared that girl,
he was betraying me in a way that
I don't think he'll ever understand.
I think we've failed each other.
He hit my ankle and my heartstrings,
so the click in unison
as I try to walk as far away from the yelling as possible.
I try to walk away the shame,
beat it out with my feet against the pavement.
I try to compact my anger,
Because I am so tired of being angry with him.
Hating your sibling feels like a crime,
but this person is not my brother,
he is a stranger in his body.
I'm looking and looking,
but I think I might have lost him.
Have you seen my brother?
I think he may have fallen through the holes
in our house he made with his fists.
I look into the face I've known for over fifteen years
the same kid I swore to love forever,
no matter what,
and I don't see him.
I don't see him.
YOU ARE READING
Eventide
Poesíaa little collection of the poems and prose that stuck, the ones I can't un-memorize. written at eventide. (Cover photo taken by me, please leave it where it is)