I scoop up the last armful of clothes from my drawer,
Look at my uncle sitting at my computer
my eyes screaming,"I'm done, that's it"
he nods his head, listening to my aunt on the other end of the phone
and playing with the settings of the security camera dad bought to spy on us.
I carry them into the hallway,
kick grandmas already half open door
drop them on the bed
and sort them out;
a pair of pants,
I lift the shirts from the Mexican midnight takeout box
insert the pants,
put the shirts back down
add another pile of shirts
and fit the socks and underwear along the side.
this is the third box
and it's done.
three boxes, a clothes basket, a backpack and a computer
and I feel like a hoarder, like I have far more than I need.
as I turn around I feel him wrap his arms around my neck
and ease his tear filled eyes onto my shoulder.
"I love you, Bubba"
he says, in a voice deeper than it should be
"I can deal with him,
but living without either of my brothers scares me"
I start crying, I can't hold back the tears
all the pain and suffering of eighteen long years
finally **** near over
and I almost start grabbing clothes and stuffing them back into the drawers.
I almost say
"I can wait six years for a life"
but I look into his eyes
and see that he's telling me not to stay
that his heart will be torn up
but he can make it through
he always has.
twelve years old and the strongest person I know.
we stand there embraced for a quarter hour
crying until we have no more tears
until we have let out all the anger and fear of the last nine years.
we stumble into the dark hallway
eyes red, swollen, and damp.
Nobody asks any questions
and we continue on with our day,
my entire life piled up on the far side of grandma's bed