i could write a thousand poems

about the relationship

between a younger sister

and an older brother

about how one day you loved me

with open arms and a big smile

and the next you were too cool for me

and silence kept us apart

but we are not the normal pair,

not the ones who fought over the last cookie,

but the ones who would split it.

the ones who lend a shoulder to cry on

when our hearts are broken

too late in the night.

ones,

who when addiction takes over,

doesn’t just stop loving you,

because they are angry with the world.

ones,

who during the weeks of fighting

for a life without an itch

thats dangerous to scratch,

doesn’t scream and doesn’t yell,

but softly tells you they love you

because they know right now

that hurts more

than being told

“you’re better than this”.

one’s,

who spend the night before

you’re going to rehab

pretending nothing has changed

that it’s still like we’re

10 and 17,

rather than 17 and 24.

the one’s

who make toast for themselves

5 minutes before your ride shows up,

the one that’ll take you

to a place you don’t know,

yet are expected to heal in.

and finally,

the sister,

who forgets her toast,

let’s it become cold in the toaster,

and remembers.

remembers the christmas

where you bought her a jump rope,

making you the only sibling to get her a gift.

remembers the time

you got your first job,

remembers the time

you crashed your car

for the first time

and the second

and the third,

and then that one time

your friend crashed

and you told her you thought

you were taking you last breath

under the stars in the sky.

remembers the day

you left for Colorado,

and you cried as you walked through security,

just like the time

you were only 2 hours away

with an uncle

and you called her crying

saying you couldn’t stand to be that far from home.

you’re the brother

to make the choice

to go to rehab

after months

and months

of struggling with the same addiction

you’re oldest brother went through.

you’re the brother,

who will say his goodbye quickly,

but will never let go of a hug first.

the one who couldn’t look me in the eyes

until i told you i loved you,

because once you did,

i saw the tears streaming down your face.

and then you walked out the door.

to a place of hope,

a place of recovery.

and now all i  can do is wait,

to be that sister again,

and to have that brother again.