My Dearest Sibling

My dearest sibling,

From whom I seldom hear,

Hear me now and know

That I will get off the ground.

The ground is where I was,–

Where I was when you left.

Though not because of you,

I was there still while you slept—

In places, with people, that you didn’t know,

In jail cells, in a van, these places you call home

For but the shortest time, until you find another, and

Someone yet to sleep with that will steal you as you slumber.

Why don’t you come back?

The answer I question,

Whether I will ever know.

But I hope, that’s for sure.

You were never cruel to me,

You were never unkind,

To any but yourself,

So you messed your own mind.

You said that the only ones were to blame,

The ones that offered shelter, offered water,

Offered food, offered love,– would have given all

They had, even as you are,– even seeing you in pain.

Your father gave you nothing,

Yet you went back to him.

You cut deeper the scar once healing.

Mother wanted nothing between you and him.

My father understood,

He listened and cared,

So did I, and mother,

As much as she says she does not care.

She is mother, she is stubborn, but

We love her that way. She is nothing short of

Honest. You were nothing short of kin.

You were nothing short of told the truth and loved.

If only I knew sooner,

But I was too young, naive to know

Exactly what it meant

When you began pushing me away.

But now that I look back,

I feel the stinging pain to see—

Exactly what was going on,

And I may just be too late.

Explanation

I had a rather normal and happy childhood, but I wrote this one a few years ago before my brother was on the path to recovery from the life he was then living. I was scared for him and felt as though I couldn't even keep a friend in my own brother. In some ways, I blamed myself for not being there for him, but when he began pushing my parents and me out of his life more and more I was only about 8 or 9 years old. By the time I was 10, he was out of the house. He'd been going from house to house and on and off the streets for nearly a decade; I was scared less and less for myself without a brother to be my friend, but more and more that I wouldn't have a brother to be my friend soon. I still worry sometimes that he'll relapse, but all I can do is trust him and his process. He's been sober nearly two years now, and I couldn't be happier that I was wrong about these nightmares coming true.