Ten.
Ten years, I've been scared,
fearing the phone's ring.
Twenty.
Twenty years, I was,
learning how goodbye really felt.
Thirty.
Thirty years, I reached,
forty-four days ago.
Forty.
Forty, my brother was,
for fifty-seven days.
That's all he got...
and that feels like all for me.
I'm terrified, I'll admit.
Every knock on the door,
every surprise text or call,
every "hey" I wasn't expecting.
Each corner hides a death,
each day a...
Continue reading...