you were pulling and tugging
my hair like my temper
was short
you were always cutting it close
with your carelessness
with my impatience
you are still my little brother.
eighteen & fourteen.
your voice changed
I was away from home and had my heart broken
you would think now that you could swing your arms around me-
I'd treat you like your age
I was barely there and now when I try to recall
it's almost like trying to rewind an old cassette video tape recording
staring hard at the tv screen
with occasional fuzzy black and white lines in between snippets of our bickering,
our laughter muffled by scratchy sounds from
everything falling apart,
"you were never there"
"you were never home"
you are still my little brother.
twenty one & seventeen.
we have slaved ourselves to vices
sticking to the sibling code of conduct:
diss but never tattle
last night like a deer caught in headlights,
she found out.
we had this conversation that I never thought I would have with someone
only seventeen
someone that is in the same plight.
I didn't shower and you didn't fall asleep,
even though I smelled like steamboat and cigarettes and you had work the next day.
I remember looking at you,
finding it hard recognising sadness in your eyes-
they were always either emotionless or excited.
It was never emotional with you
restrictive, bounded and built like a man.
last night felt like we were tearing at the seams
I told you with nothing but conviction,
"you have such capacity to say these words that you said at
only seventeen,
that I could never have done when I was seventeen."
I could have never done the same.
Have you ever felt respect for your younger sibling?
It's a bit weird because they were always
bratty, childish and sometimes almost stupid.
Last night's conversation was something that kept playing at the back of my head when I was trying to fall asleep
while trying to be an older sister
I have come to realise
you are still my little brother,
but
boy, have you grown up.
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