These are not my thoughts. They’re yours. I don’t want them anymore. I don’t want you.
You.
I don’t break rules. There are consequences.
But you.
That smile. Secret smile.
We shared something, though. A gutting pain. A loneliness. A longing. We saw each other.
You. Saw me.
You saw the screws drilled into my window frame.
You saw the hole in my door from my dad’s fist.
You saw the powder on his nose.
On the table.
The pills.
You saw my big brother. Your best friend.
You’re struggling, man. We don’t have much, but here’s our couch. It’s a little torn, but it’s comfortable. The roof may leak, but it works. Let yourself in. Get yourself clean. Take as much time as you need. We’ll be home soon.
I see you now.
