Photographs

My memories of you have been reduced to photographs scattered across the beige carpet of my room The corners are bent and ink is chipped off or scratched off. Does it matter? Your spirited nature is still captured by these quick moments; flashes lighting up your face A brother, you were, but I will never know, cuz you weren’t around and I wasn’t around you One memory still remains. A photograph in my mind of myself. I’m flying into the air and falling into your arms You left this world before I was able to know you fully. But would I want to know you now? There are most likely secrets that I’ve never known about you. Secrets that can’t be told by a single photograph. Mom will never tell, cuz it’s too painful to think of. It’s too painful to think of you, big brother. So I’m left with photographs that let me remember you the way I want to remember you; still and happy.