I did not know who I was
There were things I enjoyed
But none took up much more than my peripheral-
I was fixated on how and when I would leave.
One day, he walked into my room-
his face was still grubby and round then-
And asked me if I had ever thought of running away
I had though before that my baby brother was too young
To see my scarred skin
But I rolled up my sleeve.
The hurt already so ingraned in that green youth
Could not be worsened by my absence.
I could not go away.
His big sissy who he loved so dearly and looked up to-
I could not take her away from him.
My youth suddenly stared at me and promised to become adulthood one day, if only for this kid.
I can not be a selfish child anymore.
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