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She was there when I used to cry and think I was all alone. She was still there when I stopped crying and struggled to tell her what I ate that day. You gave me strength, through the hard times. We used to believe we had to endure, but we don’t believe that now. Those days were tiring and we couldn’t do it anymore. She looked into my eyes and I told her they were beautiful. She said, “no one has ever said that to me before.” We were friends, I really meant it. She gave me confidence and I spilled my guts in front of her. We mimic the ones we love. He told me to come with him and taste clouds and freshly melted snow between our toes. We drank in sunrises and moments of “things will never be the same” We suffered for months in manmade caves and empty companies. They suffered in silence next to us. Brothers are made side by side. We cried, In our own pity, and the rain loves to dance to pity’s song. And when you ran into her in that alley you knew she knew the tune too. She laid in it next to you and sucked it from your open wounds. But her blue eyes cut the new ones deeper. And you told Mom about her. Brother after brother and boats took us to new islands. Hearts opened in starlight and were written down in circles. When we were happiest. We had been across the world. Made ourselves bleed. Listened to their songs on blackened streets. Slipped between them beneath the sheets. Nothing was enough. Food, love, music, drugs. But you knew what was. He turned and looked at me like I was crazy. 5km in bare feet And mine had blisters all over them. I told him it was the breath. I experienced it, I knew it. I felt it. It had been there the whole time. When I used to cry. When she looked into my eyes. When we tasted clouds in the night. When we suffered by our brother's side. When we taught, traveled and tried. The inhales, the exhales, the sighs The whole time. You were there, and I didn’t realize. That all I needed to do, Was watch. More at- http://brendenpettingill.com/index.php/2018/02/04/1596/
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