My heart it breaks
Never knowing what to say
Fearing that the day I do the moment that’s to late
I guess I need to explain.
See I’m like you, we feel just the same.
You call me to talk
But you’ll never listen
You must feel that I’m like the rest of them and anything I say to you is nothing but obligatory words I’d share with anyone if it wasn’t you.
Do you not remember?
Is there not an ounce of you that recalls?
The life we spent before she left where the only ones in the world we knew were the two of us?
Do you really think that after 17 I digressed in my mind and through age and time I know longer know what the worlds like when I close my eyes at night and finally start to see straight?
When now I feel like you act like I’m a person that you love immensely yet a person that’s never met you.
Dude. Look at me please
Here I am calling for help and drowning at the surface
The only comfort in life I’ve found is being gifted the brother my cards drew. The only reason I’m alive at all is having my brother beside me
The kid that knows it all
So when you call me begging to die, I grow still and and scared see the only thing I get from that is knowing that somehow I failed along the way.
That the things I thought I knew were hopes
And drams my subconscious drew.
See my comfort was always knowing that despite the moments I felt alone I have my brother at home who knows me better than they ever will.
All these people gone so soon. Remembering that the only
Thing preventing me to follow suit
Is thinking that there’s more
To life because something high and mighty must have gave me you.
Forever later and I still see all the things that we thought we knew when we were still in our teens
Remember how we felt? When we lived way back then? Remember the love we felt when we sensed that moment was the end
Of the life that we thought we knew
Feeling that from here on out the only thing we have to grasp is the comfort of what is you. But none of this is true. See this is only the reality I created because that’s what we do. Cling to the answers we give ourselves that are comfortable for ourselves. So we both live our life in the real world Believing that reality is ME deep saying I know how you feel but how could that be? He’s calling YOU at night saying he’s ready die. While I sit on the line and explain that I’ve been there before and everything your feeling right now is everything I’ve felt before. Never really knowing what life looks like through his eyes not mine
And here we are, stalemate
Stuck in between me me begging you to know that I feel what you feel and your not alone and you accepting that it’s all fake and the only thing you know for sure is no matter what it’s you and your damn self if nothing else at all
The reality it be, dispight whose reality we we side with we both both of us need we.
So we beg and we plead
Drawing lines in sand of what we need that we don’t receive. And these lines are collected at the end of the day and serve as trophies that justify the reasons were not okay. See we search for answers not lies, something in this world that can explain why we can’t survive. I could be optimistic, but that I’ve tried for years on end so at some point you say bye. And kiss the time away that you spent begging to stay high. And now your low and lone allowing all the bad pass by. The default life you spent years trying to deny. The one the darkness drew where your mom left you and your sister never tried. The one where the brother you thought you had was only someone else that shared your blood yet still you never had. And after all of that, the only comfort to find is knowing it’s only you you have behind all the distractions you birthed with your mind. And it uncomfortable and fragile. See when it’s only me in this life so deep it’s hard to keep up with the miles. And the days weeks when you’re relishing in all the things that make them smile, you breathe in their simple lives for only moments, moments at a time. Seconds before you remember that the life you were given could never be so simplified. The simple life, where the square rout was already simplified. The life they have where the saddest things to them are temporary complications when you divide with pen and don’t get it right. Simple things I wish could frustrate me in place of this complex life. A world where I envy those that have to do all the dishes in order to complain about their life. The ones that call their families to laugh instead of cry. The people that go out once a month to get a break from the grind. While I sit with my pen and pad begging for their life. And they go to bed and wake up mad because those vodka tonics weren’t worth the time. And they get off work and go to bed while I stay up late and pull my eye lids open exhausted from the feeling of not feeling like going to bed. In an effort to not remember that my brother wishes to be dead while I choose between needing help and helping him instead. Making plans to do more tomorrow and when tomorrow comes I’ll work harder tomorrow. Never having mind enough to feed my own soul. Then acknowledging all of that and blaming myself because his can’t grow. Knowing that when it’s over I’ll know him leaving was my fault. Simply because I couldn’t grasp myself enough to grab him before we both fell. Haunted by the memory of a day in the future where loosing him made all the things wrong with my life irreversible. Like quick sand with no way out. Desperate for something to hold on to but never pulling out. The only two choices I have are to stay put where I am and slowly wait for death or struggle to survive quickly sink alive. Both with the same end game ones just a longer ride.