Your dusty blue eyes look just like mine,
But mine don’t hold the lies you spoke.
Brothers are supposed to protect,
So why am I finding myself at the end of your rope?
You handed me silence, wrapped in blame,
A gift of absence, a hollow name.
You lied, deflected, and called it grace,
But I see the cracks in your polished face.
I raised my voice—not to harm, but to heal,
To break the silence, to make it real.
Yet you called me “too much,” said I crossed a line,
When all I wanted was to stop the decline.
You disowned me for speaking my truth,
For refusing to play the role of your sleuth.
I won’t chase shadows, I won’t pretend,
That this family’s brokenness can ever mend—
Without honesty, without the fight,
Without calling out what isn’t right.
You chose to cut me loose, to let me go,
But I’m not the one who’s lost, you know.
I’ve done the work, I’ve faced my pain,
While you’ve stayed stagnant, afraid of the rain.
You called me the problem, the one to blame,
But I’m not the one who’s playing the game.
I won’t apologize for wanting more,
For refusing to settle, for closing the door
.
On the lies, the shame, the toxic spin—
I’m done letting the cycle win.
Your dusty blue eyes look just like mine,
But mine don’t hold the lies you spoke.
I’ll walk away with my head held high,
No longer bound by your fraying rope.
Isn’t it funny how the child who calls out the bad behavior soon becomes the black sheep?