Was I a good brother to you
You needed me, But was I there?
Was I a good brother to you?
You needed me,
But was I there?
I don’t know now,
if I can answer that.
Correctly. Truthfully?
See I was young.
As were you.
But I was younger still.
I was dealing in my own way;
With the fact.
The fact that our mother had died.
I was dealing in my own way.
And I did not stop and think,
How were you dealing with it.
You had lost someone too,
After all.
And maybe, just maybe,
You needed her more than I did?
I’ve been quiet, through life.
I made friends.
Boys are not meant to be emotional.
I don’t know.
I don’t know how I dealt with it.
I don’t remember.
It’s something I don’t think about.
But, you and I,
You and I are all that’s left of her.
And I read somewhere,
Dead people die twice.
Once when they die.
And second when people stop talking about them.
It feels like I left her that way for a long time.
I don’t want to anymore.
I want to print a picture
put it on my wall. I will.
But you needed her,
In a way I didn’t.
And I could have been better.
We could have talked more.
We could talk more now.
I want to sit with you,
In a place where you don’t have to worry,
About who is there or not.
And we can talk. And cry.
I want to. And we will.
I want to be better for you.
You and I are the only things
Left of her.
After all.
