I find myself thinking of you in past tense sometimes,
As if you are dead
Instead of simply gone,
When we were growing up
We always talked about all the places we’d go
Once we finally got out of here,
But we both forgot
That you’d be leaving so much sooner than me,
Brother,
On the nights when our parents’ shouting is particularly loud
I resent you for escaping
And not taking me with you,
And I hate myself for being selfish enough
To wish you had stayed

You were the only person in this house
That made me feel like I wasn’t invisible,
The only one that could tell
That I was only pretending to be happy,
And yet, I am afraid you would no longer recognize me
If we passed each other on the street;
I cut off all my hair
And lost too much weight too fast,
I grew into my backbone
And stopped picking fights
With people that I knew would win,
Brother,
I have changed

And I’m willing to bet you have too;
When you left me you were a gangly eighteen year old
Fresh out of high school and eager to see the world,
I wonder if you are still that boy,
If you still play harmonica at two in the morning
And sometimes forget to put on socks under your shoes,
I wonder if you think of me at all,
Stuck in this podunk little town
Walking around your old room
And touching all the things you left behind,
As if you are dead
Instead of simply gone,
Brother,
I miss you.
Present tense.