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Poem

I think I hear whispers floating through my mind,
It's the voice of someone I held dear-
I remember the days when games were the only stress there.

Opposite balconies facing each other,
Extending hands to see if we could hold together ,
We bonded over shared toys, origami papers and roaring laughter.

We played during every holiday as we grew,
Sometimes we stumbled over skates, sometimes over balls,
Sometimes trying to bat, sometimes gliding over the feather.

A shared childhood and a shared neighbourhood,
We grew up together,
He was the closest thing I had to a brother.

And then adolescence swooped in and we grew apart,
I wish! Oh how I wish! It hadn't been the death of our bond,
Life went on over forgotten graces.

When last Tuesday I heard his mother's screams,
There he was, his once bright face, now a canvas bleached by fear,
A shadow over his features as he hung from the ceiling fan.

His legs floating in the air,
His mother's screeches shook the whole definition of my fear,
I looked around as I welcomed the onslaught of tears.

The next day he was brought after having performed post mortem care,
Packed in a black bag his feet peeked through-
As I watched the last of my brother.

His voice echoed in the mind, body and soul-
He asked me, his sister, to avenge him and his mother,
He wished we hadn't fallen apart , we fell back together.

When I close my eyes, I still see his smile,
Haunting my inner sphere-
With a plea so loud it was a whisper mere.

~ heeya

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