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