My brother and I
don't talk anymore.
Not even if we run into each other
at a party.
With him ****** and me very drunk.
A hello is as far as it goes.
We pass each other silently
in the corridors of my home.
Things are different
slowly but suddenly.
We used to walk the halls of the school
holding hands,
even up until seventh grade.
Well he was in sixth.
Everyone told us they were so jealous,
best friends and family.
We planned to grow up
and have houses with adjoining yards.
We would share a pool.
But my brother died two years ago.
Now even if I try I am disappointed.
Want to go on a walk?
His eyes stare blankly ahead at the computer.
When sharing the kitchen space,
Do you remember that time
we broke the tire swing?
Not really he mumbles
with the slam of the fridge door
as he slips out of the room.
He'll come out of this.
People tell me all the time.
I don't really think
people come back from the dead.
Yet, every day I find myself
checking his features for signs of life.