My Home in the Shadows

"Are you the brother that lives freely?"

"Are you the brother that sees clearly?"

"Are you the brother that saves lives?"

"Are you the brother that revives?"

"Are you the brother…?"

No, I’m the invisible brother that awakes at seven.

I’m the brother that tries for heaven.

I’m the brother that comes home every day.

I’m the brother that cannot live this way.

I’m not that brother.

I’m in the shadow of him. It’s dark here.

The sky black with forgotten and unforgiven tears.

Who knows if I’ll ever get out?

Or if I stay here—bound and stout?

The black comes close and hovers.

Suddenly, the black is a sprinter.

It is cold in me, like winter. 

It expands in me like a balloon about to pop

Fuller and fuller until it drops.

It is so so dim.

Few times I have ever tasted the bright light

That lays just outside the black crows that hold me tight.

It tastes sweet, sweet like honey straight from the bee.

It only remains a second until it is taken away from me.

It was nice while it lasted.

Terrifying hands seize me and pull me back,

Pull so hard that I begin to crack.

I am an open wound, bleeding and alone.

No matter how hard I try, this skin will not be sewn.

I cannot be free.

It’s cold here in the shadow.

No sun, no heat, breaths shallow.

I’m oh so lonely here.

No one comes to visit, no one to endear.

I’m starving, involuntary fasted.

"Are you the brother…?"

No, I’m the brother that shivers cold—smothered.

Who knows if I’ll ever get out?

I’ll just stay here—bound and stout.

Silent as a frozen, forgettable tree.

In the shadow of my brother I dwell.

I would invite you to ring my bell,

However, nobody wants to visit a frozen-over hell.


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