Your Brother

Disclaimer: I have not written this poem with anyone in mind, other than myself. I know other people have lost siblings and know this pain. I don’t think I’m the only one.  The person I’m writing to in this poem is myself before my brother died. Writing for me is a way of processing through things.  Thanks for reading. 

YOUR BROTHER 

what do you do

when your mom tells you she’s not doing good?

and you know that means she’s talking about her dead son

dead son

think about those words for a minute

you don’t really know what that means

it’s all theory for you

it’s something out there

you hear stories about people whose babies die

or the daughters that are killed in car accidents

or some twelve year old kid who’s got cancer

you say ‘’that’s to bad’’

“i’m sorry, i can’t imagine what it would be like”

and you’re right

you don’t have a clue

you hear the stories

but it will never be you

you’ll never be able to understand it

my mom gave birth to a son that lived 40 hours

my siblings and i all held him

as he gasped and wheezed

see it’s like this

i go through my day

i do this

i do that

i do my day to day stuff

i don’t think about this till i have to

then something happens

the world turns

on me

and it all come flashing back

a mention

a mom

she’s not doing well

and you know she means her son

her dead son

your brother.

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