My brother, it's as if we're speaking of a ghost
when we speak of you.
Your name
constantly accompanied by
"remember when"s and "I miss"es.
But you're not gone,
you're just away
on a little trip that turned
into an extended stay.
But it's no vacation paradise.
It's like you took a one way flight
into a bird cage
and you watched the door slam shut
right behind you
with nothing you or I could do.
And it pains me to see
because you're such a free spirit
but they strapped a name tag to you
and made you their pet.
Threw you in with the convicted rest
until you rebelled
and they kept you by yourself.
Well over a year spent in solitude
and when they let you out
you weren't the same.
And mom, she wasn't either.
I swear I saw her flinch every time she heard your name.
Little brother, he's the spitting image of you.
Like he's trying to make up for your loss.
A stand in
a mini me
every time he laughs it's your face I see.
He wears your hat every single day
and it breaks my heart
he wants to be just like you
and I pray he doesn't take after your bad parts too.
You're coming home soon
and as happy as I am
I'm scared to death it won't be long
before you're back at it again.
Rehabilitated is an empty word
you know what it means but it's something you've never heard.
You are what you will always be.
Even if what you're not is free.


*s.mndi