Things that look alike

 

Volume 1: "Bright and Innocent!"

 

The cordial smile of a supposed benefactor 

The caresses of a new unexplored lover

Freshly cooked up ideas, right out of a young passionate mind; not very well though out

And the hope in the words of the confident orator

and the promises of the formidable father

and his proud posture and big gestures

and the sunshine in the background washing him making him look like a saint

And the mezmerizing bright blindness you get from looking directly at the sun

And the darkness of actual blindness at that brief terrifying moment when I accidentally press on the light switch with my elbow 

and a glance at your old dreams

and indulging in new ones

and the warm friendly face of the pyre burning in the fireplace 

and the guilty pleasure you get from catching a whiff of gasoline when you're parked in a gas station

and the straits far ahead that you can't imagine how dire they are, and really they won't bother you until way way later!

And bold moves

And the good mood you're in today 

And the happiness that you think it foretells 

They all look the same.

Bright and Innocent!

When you're mindlessly glancing from afar.

 

Volume 2 "Deep"

 

The rift between us and them

The big wrinkle between my sullen mother's eyebrows

and the sorrowful look in the eyes of the dog who's sitting quietly in the corner, not uttering a sound, not asking for play or treat, feeling the room

and the charged silence that's killing us

and the wedge driven between brothers

and the envy

and the rivalry

and the feuds between sisters

ane the burns in the old carpet

and the grooves in the old worn out cheap floor tiles that we thought could bear the burden of us forever

and the disturbance from the violent noise of the city

and the s@$# we're in

and the hole in the ceiling letting in the rain

and the gap between generations 

and the crack in out broken hearts

They all look the same.

When you're hanging from a thread with the chasm of the split earth under your swaying legs.

 

 

Volume 3: "Grim"

 

The future 

And my empty pockets

And the words that come out of my pen

And the thoughts that run through my brain

And the black circles under my little brother's prematurely encumbered eyes

And the chances of us getting out

And all the odds

And the possibilities

And the prospects 

And the dark fairy tales that were twisted and tampered with to promise us redemption

And the omitted "M" of the prophet-brothers that never meant to deceive us, making all the difference 

And the truth that they told

And the reality that's waiting outside.

They all look the same. 

Grim.

When you finally open your eyes.

 

Things that should look alike.

 

The way we were and the way we are

How I love you and how you do 

The things that we say and the things that we mean 

And my side and your side

And faces of two siblings sharing the same thick blood 

And the expression in their eyes

And the picture it paints of how they feel about each other

And how we all really feel about each other

And what we deserve and all we 're getting.

 

They all should be the same. But they're not.