We fought,
Like beasts,
Not knowing how to speak.

It escalated,
Quickly,
That day.

Physical confrontation,
Little as I was,
I bit him,
With all of my might.

He shrieked in pain,
Rebounded with rage.
Against a brick wall,
My brother bashed my head.

Over and over,
Till I was limp.
By six years old,
I fully understood "dead".

I don't recall much,
Vision came and went.
Sounds,
Fled from my ears.

Though I couldn't see my mother,
Nor could I hear her cry.
I simply somehow...
Still felt her tears.

Into the bathroom,
She placed me in the bathtub.
Like trying to wash away,
The near fatal sight.

But as everything faded,
From the bathroom that night.
A strange man,
Appeared to my right.

Above me,
He looked down.
With such sadness I've not known.
And a decision,
Wilfully came to my mind.

Stick around,
Carry on.
Live and proceed.
Or die,
And let it's peace,
Be a moment so kind.

And as that decision,
Came to my thoughts.
I looked,
Upon this strange man.

Hovering in the bathroom,
His presence, familiar.
Like myself,
But aged, and knowing a plan.

"Not yet...
There's still something you must do."

And that's the end of that memory.

It haunts me,
But subtle.
In quizzical ways.

I don't know,
Exactly what I saw.

But tonight,
I sit thinking,
Those sad words said so certainly.
Said, with a heart reaching out to me.

It's been far to long,
Since I sat and wondered...

"Did I really turn out,
To be,
who I really wanted,
to be?"

And have I finally done it,
By age 40.
Whatever I've been meant to do.
When, can I finish,
This absurdity?