Dear Brother,

It’s burning, the end of the day.
My brother, I adored you.
I took your guilt
And stitched a quilt.
It was all,
Was all I was due.

Maybe my books
Are too tedious for you,
My limbs too short.
My hair a nest of ravens
Kraa-ing in your fist,

Lying dead by the pillow fort.

Don’t give me those eyes-
The ones that make me feel.
Like I’m not the stain
Of Love striking cement
Or as if Sundays and God
Can erase my scent.

How I tried to live;
To live it down.
Alas brother, it’s all the same.

And I’ve waited
In the vomit puddle
I’ve cleaned too often.

Maybe today, maybe today
My ribs will be broken.

And you will leave
This sinking flotsam
And envelop the County
And all the Rivers true.

Like mist I will clear,
To hug you one last time.
Dear brother,

How I adored you.

*Author’s note:Psychological trauma from abuse and Stockholm Syndrome are very real things. Sometimes the cause isn’t a stranger, but those closest to the victims. Making peace with yourself and knowing your self worth will give you the volition to stand up to abusive relationships.


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