If you wrap your hand around your mother's wrist
your fingers will touch. How
do you come to terms with that? How
do you learn that your father's shoulders
can no longer bear your weight, can barely
hold his own?
Your little brother does not look at you
the way he once did: like
you'd hung the moon and stars just for him.
Your little brother does not look at you
much at all. How
do you grow up
knowing the things you are killing
to do so?
I am still young. I still
have much to learn.
i wonder if this is the best version
of myself. what could have been
and what never will be. the things
meant to be and the things that
are. was it worth it?
i ask the girl in the mirror.
every now and then, i am lying in bed
and want to wake up so badly i could
scream for it. surely this is not all there is.
surely this is only a dream, a bad dream,
and the world is kinder beyond it.
someday it'll be too
late. someday you'll wish
you had hugged them tighter.
you thought you would see them
again. you thought
endings didn't happen this way,
no warning, no reason, just
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