The love is distal and nearly dead.
You will always be part of me then
but you will never be part of me now.
I can still see a younger me hiding in your ample shadow.
We never had much but we always had each other,
I was handcuffed to your ego and couldn’t stand up
for my own beliefs unless you believed in them too.
I was cried into a corner and wrapped up in shame.
I was barely alive and hidden in plain sight.
I was a prop and a punching bag,
a brother typecast as a running gag,
and you would drag your knuckles across my pride
every time I tried to swim against your rip tide.
You started killing me before I knew who I was
and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able
to forgive you for that.