At a moment's notice, we will be on our way.
If he starts calling, we will come running.
I'd lose strangers, friends and lovers alike before
losing him.
My own blood, my brother.
A wicked thorn pierces his brain and keeps
him up in his grave of a bed,
with not even a parent cognizant of his turmoil.
He fills up on this and inhales that
to keep it all at bay,
and despite it all, he finds that he is the only one
able to console himself
gasping for air in my bathroom.
In the dead of night, when he tries to slip away
backpack in hand, and the world on his shoulders,
we will not let him leave;
for he may not make it anywhere again.
Our home is a safe space, and no one will
take that away from us, or him.
We will all have to be stronger than we thought,
to keep his head above water.
I will be there.
We will be there.
I refuse to lose him to an unjust mind.
E.