I wish you weren’t kind to me
You laid down in the garden
Right by the apple tree where our cat used to sleep
Your eyes were alight with a sort of bliss
Your body trembling with hunger

You told me that something was there
Ambrosia seeping into the soil
“Please, just a few more minutes”
“I can find it, I swear”

The rain poured onto you
Soaking your already muddy socks
I told you to come inside
I told you that there was nothing there
“I can see it,” you insisted
“You just need to look”

It was getting dark
I pulled and tugged on your ragged clothes
But still, you were kind to me

I wish you would yell
Scream, kick or cry
But you’re so gentle with me
You apologize and tell me I’m a good brother

I can’t do this
I can’t let you go
Please, give me a reason to push you away
But you just hand me your saccharine smile
And syrup-soaked regret
Even as your eyes have become hollow