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Lainey May 16
You’ve traded insults with him from the time he could return them.
If he offered you which hairy arm to pick, you’d Chinese burn them.
His annoying level neediness would see you waste YOUR time
Just to see him stand, silver in hand,  on the Space Invaders line.
But HE was always there to help you put the chain back on
When the rest of the BMX Bandits had thrown up dust and gone!
And he was there to corroborate when your day in court arrived.
You were braver because you had him there and TOGETHER you’d survived.
Then the day when words escaped your lips and you just needed someone to save you?
No questions asked; jumped on a train; no hesitation gave you.
Coz pesky brothers grow into men,  somewhere along the way.
Rough them up but love them well for you’ll need them there some day.
We were all forged in fire,
some of us cooked longer than others
sizzling away in a *******
cast iron skillet,
popping and steaming.
It's sounds like the beginning of a gory old
Grimm's fairy tale, doesn't it?

We all cooked until
we were hard,
and cracked.
Stones,
dull in appearance
harsh in action.
But you,
you are soft.

You must have been born
with a map of the stars
printed on your eyelids,
and silver snowflakes
on the tip of your nose,
the smallest brother.

The air is thick with expectation.
The words people utter into
the atmosphere
all hang in the air like smoke.
We all live and breathe it.
Masculinity,
femininity,
not enough,
too much.
The expectation is in our blood.

But you,
you're laying on the ground,
below the smoke and toxins
on your back looking up at the sky,
and deciding for yourself
who it is you want to be.

Kitchen conversations
in the late weekend afternoon,
my hand pressing a damp washcloth
to your arm.
The summer  had baked your cheeks
into a freckled pink,
we giggled together.

Off the washcloth came with a flourish
to reveal a pink
floral
scented temporary tattoo,
our forearms matched
in colorful decoration.
We wore them with pride
for a week,
until they faded.

You make me better, somehow.

The little things we do together,
my smallest brother
and I,
they make me better.
You've got a healing magic
in your lack of expectation,
your blind acceptance.
I think that's what the world needs,
Temporary tattoos
and magic.
For my little brother.
Bartholomew Sep 2018
I smiled today....
I smiled today because I remembered your smile. How infectious it was like a plague but was able to cure a sickness, a smile that came with a glow in your eyez.
A smile that was contagious and was guaranteed to make me or others smile. A smile that was a sight for sore eyez.

I laughed today....
I laughed today because I remembered how your laugh sounded, how it was music to my ears in a uncontrollable hysterical sense.
To the point where our faces turned red while holding our sides so our ribs don't split.
How your laughter echoed in a room as the sound was intertwined with mine.
And how such laughter was filled with happiness and joy for that timeless moment in time.

I frowned today....
I frowned today because now all I have is the memory of your smile.
I time travel in my thoughts searching for that sight and realize how life is so fragile.
I don't see it physically, I can only see it with my eyez closed.
Hoping that I never forget how it looks as my memory fades when I grow old.

I cried today....
I cried today because your laughter can no longer beat my ear drum.
I can no longer hear the vibrations of your voice, I now have to imagine the sound of your laughter because you’re gone and no longer to hear from.
I cried today and those tears were lead from a frown.
Remembering how your laughter was hysterical made me cry hysterically cuz I can no longer hear that sound.

But..... Today, I smiled.
I smiled today because of you and it's been a while....
To my little brother Andre. I miss you everyday. It hasn’t gotten any easier. I cry most of the time but today I smiled. RestEazyDreezy
Illya Oz Apr 2018
When you say you want to die,
I want to say 'me too',
But I can't,
Because you're only eleven.

When you ask about the scars on my arm,
I tell you it happen by accident,
So not to give you any ideas,
Because you're only eleven.

When you cry and I hold you tight,
I tell you a lie,
That everything is going to be ok,
Because you're only eleven.

When I cry I cover my eyes,
I don't want you to see my pain,
So I can help you deal with yours,
Because you're only eleven.

When things get to hard,
I want to keep you safe,
So you don't have to face the world alone,
Because you're only eleven.

When you say you want to die,
I promise to help you live,
And give you the support I never got,
Because I was only seven.
I still don't know how I feel about this poem. It's about me and my little brother (I guess mental illness must run in the family). I've always felt the conflict of what is the best thing to do when he tells me he wants to die. Do I be the strong older sibling or tell him I understand and have been through the same things (as a role model that can backfire really badly, it's hard to explain). I still don't know what the right thing to do is and I don't think I ever will
Nylee Apr 2017
When he came to my house
he was very little
very adorable
too fussy.
He had everyone wrapped around him
He replaced me from being the youngest

I was fascinated by him,
the little creature he was,
curious to see new things,
he was either too eager, or was just crying.
And his smile, it was the best thing
The red cheek, so chubby
And little fingers and legs.

He was like my living toy
my baby brother, my playmate
Someone I adore
Someone who now is taller
But still, my little brother forever
cheyenne bishop Sep 2014
He sat there
I saw the sadness in his eyes
He looked at me straight in the eyes and said
"They bully me"
"Who bullies you?" I ask him
"My friends at school they call me names"
"What do you say back to them"
"Nothing I have to look strong or
They will call me a cry baby"
"Its ok to cry they are hurting you
When we hurt we cry" I say
"I do cry at night in my pillow
Where momy cant hear me"
With tears in my eyes
And speechless I think
What has this society came to?
A NINE YEAR OLD is crying in
His pillow where no one can hear him
To look stong infront of bullies
I tell him everything will be ok
And he look at me crying
"Sometimes I wish mommy never had me"
I lost it... how can this little boy
So passionate
So heartfelt
So quite
So sweet
Be going through something
so horrible
So tragic
So breaking?
This little boy goes through something
Something he hides so hes not
Bullied more
The worst part is....
Hes only nine.
I see my little brother who I haven't seen in 5 years and this is our conversation.....breaks my heart

— The End —